--
Madonna Francesca, having two lovers, the one Rinuccio, the other
Alessandro, by name, and loving neither of them, induces the one to
simulate a corpse in a tomb, and the other to enter the tomb to fetch him
out: whereby, neither satisfying her demands, she artfully rids herself
of both.
--
Madam, since so it pleases you, well pleased am I that in this vast, this
boundless field of discourse, which you, our Lady Bountiful, have
furnished us withal, 'tis mine to run the first course; wherein if I do
well, I doubt not that those, who shall follow me, will do not only well
but better. Such, sweet my ladies, has been the tenor of our discourse,
that times not a few the might of Love, how great and singular it is, has
been set forth, but yet I doubt the topic is not exhausted, nor would it
be so, though we should continue to speak of nought else for the space of
a full year. And as Love not only leads lovers to debate with themselves
whether they were not best to die, but also draws them into the houses of
the dead in quest of the dead, I am minded in this regard to tell you a
story, wherein you will not only discern the power of Love, but will also
learn how the ready wit of a worthy lady enabled her to disembarrass
herself of two lovers, whose love was displeasing to her.
Know, then, that there dwelt aforetime in the city of Pistoia a most
beauteous widow lady, of whom it so befell that two of our citizens, the
one Rinuccio Palermini, the other Alessandro Chiarmontesi, by name,
tarrying at Pistoia, for that they were banished from Florence, became,
neither witting how it stood with the other, in the last degree
enamoured. Wherefore each used all his arts to win the love of Madonna
Francesca de' Lazzari--such was the lady's name--and she, being thus
continually plied with ambassages and entreaties on the part of both, and
having indiscreetly lent ear to them from time to time, found it no easy
matter discreetly to extricate herself, when she was minded to be rid of
their pestering, until it occurred to her to adopt the following
expedient, to wit, to require of each a service, such as, though not
impracticable, she deemed none would actually perform, to the end that,
they making default, she might have a decent and colourable pretext for
refusing any longer to receive their ambassages. Which expedient was on
this wise. One day there died in Pistoia, and was buried in a tomb
outside the church of the Friars Minors, a man, who, though his forbears
had been gentlefolk, was reputed the very worst man, not in Pistoia only,
but in all the world, and therewithal he was of form and feature so
preternaturally hideous that whoso knew him not could scarce see him for
the first time without a shudder. Now, the lady pondering her design on
the day of this man's death, it occurred to her that he might in a
measure subserve its accomplishment: wherefore she said to her
maid:--"Thou knowest to what worry and annoyance I am daily put by the
ambassages of these two Florentines, Rinuccio, and Alessandro. Now I am
not disposed to gratify either of them with my love, and therefore, to
shake them off, I am minded, as they make such great protestations, to
put them to the proof by requiring of each something which I am sure he
will not perform, and thus to rid myself of their pestering: so list what
I mean to do. Thou knowest that this morning there was interred in the
ground of the Friars Minors this Scannadio (such was the name of the bad
man of whom we spoke but now) whose aspect, while he yet lived, appalled
even the bravest among us. Thou wilt therefore go privily, to Alessandro,
and say to him:--'Madonna Francesca sends thee word by me that the time
is now come when thou mayst win that which thou hast so much desired, to
wit, her love and joyance thereof, if thou be so minded, on the following
terms. For a reason, which thou shalt learn hereafter, one of her kinsmen
is to bring home to her to-night the corpse of Scannadio, who was buried
this morning; and she, standing in mortal dread of this dead man, would
fain not see him; wherefore she prays thee to do her a great service, and
be so good as to get thee this evening at the hour of first sleep to the
tomb wherein Scannadio is buried, and go in, and having wrapped thyself
in his grave-clothes, lie there, as thou wert Scannadio, himself, until
one come for thee, when thou must say never a word, but let him carry
thee forth, and bear thee to Madonna Francesca's house, where she will
give thee welcome, and let thee stay with her, until thou art minded to
depart, and, for the rest, thou wilt leave it to her.' And if he says
that he will gladly do so, well and good; if not, then thou wilt tell him
from me, never more to shew himself where I am, and, as he values his
life, to have a care to send me no more ambassages. Which done, thou wilt
go to Rinuccio Palermini, and wilt say to him:--'Madonna Francesca lets
thee know that she is ready in all respects to comply with thy wishes, so
thou wilt do her a great service, which is on this wise: to-night, about
midnight, thou must go to the tomb wherein was this morning interred
Scannadio, and saying never a word, whatever thou mayst hear or otherwise
be ware of, bear him gently forth to Madonna Francesca's house, where
thou shalt learn wherefore she requires this of thee, and shalt have thy
solace of her; and if thou art not minded to obey her in this, see that
thou never more send her ambassage.'"
The maid did her mistress's errand, omitting nothing, to both the men,
and received from each the same answer, to wit, that to pleasure the
lady, he would adventure a journey to hell, to say nothing of entering a
tomb. With which answer the maid returned to the lady, who waited to see
if they would be such fools as to make it good. Night came, and at the
hour of first sleep Alessandro Chiarmontesi, stripped to his doublet,
quitted his house, and bent his steps towards Scannadio's tomb, with
intent there to take the dead man's place. As he walked, there came upon
him a great fear, and he fell a saying to himself:--Ah! what a fool am I!
Whither go I? How know I that her kinsmen, having detected my love, and
surmising that which is not, have not put her upon requiring this of me,
in order that they may slay me in the tomb? In which event I alone should
be the loser, for nought would ever be heard of it, so that they would
escape scot-free. Or how know I but that 'tis some machination of one of
my ill-wishers, whom perchance she loves, and is therefore minded to
abet? And again quoth he to himself:--But allowing that 'tis neither the
one nor the other, and that her kinsmen are really to carry me to her
house, I scarce believe that 'tis either that they would fain embrace
Scannadio's corpse themselves, or let her do so: rather it must be that
they have a mind to perpetrate some outrage upon it, for that, perchance,
he once did them an evil turn. She bids me say never a word, no matter
what I may hear or be otherwise ware of. Suppose they were to pluck out
my eyes, or my teeth, or cut off my hands, or treat me to some other
horse-play of the like sort, how then? how could I keep quiet? And if I
open my mouth, they will either recognize me, and perchance do me a
mischief, or, if they spare me, I shall have been at pains for nought,
for they will not leave me with the lady, and she will say that I
disobeyed her command, and I shall never have aught of her favours.
As thus he communed with himself, he was on the point of turning back;
but his overmastering love plied him with opposing arguments of such
force that he kept on his way, and reached the tomb; which having opened,
he entered, and after stripping Scannadio, and wrapping himself in the
grave-clothes, closed it, and laid himself down in Scannadio's place. He
then fell a thinking of the dead man, and his manner of life, and the
things which he had heard tell of as happening by night, and in other
less appalling places than the houses of the dead; whereby all the hairs
of his head stood on end, and he momently expected Scannadio to rise and
cut his throat. However, the ardour of his love so fortified him that he
overcame these and all other timorous apprehensions, and lay as if he
were dead, awaiting what should betide him.
Towards midnight Rinuccio, bent likewise upon fulfilling his lady's
behest, sallied forth of his house, revolving as he went divers
forebodings of possible contingencies, as that, having Scannadio's corpse
upon his shoulders, he might fall into the hands of the Signory, and be
condemned to the fire as a wizard, or that, should the affair get wind,
it might embroil him with his kinsfolk, or the like, which gave him
pause. But then with a revulsion of feeling:-- Shall I, quoth he to
himself, deny this lady, whom I so much have loved and love, the very
first thing that she asks of me? And that too when I am thereby to win
her favour? No, though 'twere as much as my life is worth, far be it from
me to fail of keeping my word. So on he fared, and arrived at the tomb,
which he had no difficulty in opening, and being entered, laid hold of
Alessandro, who, though in mortal fear, had given no sign of life, by the
feet, and dragged him forth, and having hoisted him on to his shoulders,
bent his steps towards the lady's house. And as he went, being none too
careful of Alessandro, he swung him from time to time against one or
other of the angles of certain benches that were by the wayside; and
indeed the night was so dark and murky that he could not see where he was
going. And when he was all but on the threshold of the lady's house (she
standing within at a window with her maid, to mark if Rinuccio would
bring Alessandro, and being already provided with an excuse for sending
them both away), it so befell that the patrol of the Signory, who were
posted in the street in dead silence, being on the look-out for a certain
bandit, hearing the tramp of Rinuccio's feet, suddenly shewed a light,
the better to know what was toward, and whither to go, and advancing
targes and lances, cried out:--"Who goes there?" Whereupon Rinuccio,
having little leisure for deliberation, let Alessandro fall, and took to
flight as fast as his legs might carry him. Alessandro, albeit encumbered
by the graveclothes, which were very long, also jumped up and made off.
By the light shewn by the patrol the lady had very plainly perceived
Rinuccio, with Alessandro on his back, as also that Alessandro had the
grave-clothes upon him; and much did she marvel at the daring of both,
but, for all that, she laughed heartily to see Rinuccio drop Alessandro,
and Alessandro run away. Overjoyed at the turn the affair had taken, and
praising God that He had rid her of their harass, she withdrew from the
window, and betook her to her chamber, averring to her maid that for
certain they must both be mightily in love with her, seeing that 'twas
plain they had both done her bidding.
Crestfallen and cursing his evil fortune, Rinuccio nevertheless went not
home, but, as soon as the street was clear of the patrol, came back to
the spot where he had dropped Alessandro, and stooped down and began
feeling about, if haply he might find him, and so do his devoir to the
lady; but, as he found him not, he supposed the patrol must have borne
him thence, and so at last home he went; as did also Alessandro, knowing
not what else to do, and deploring his mishap. On the morrow, Scannadio's
tomb being found open and empty, for Alessandro had thrown the corpse
into the vault below, all Pistoia debated of the matter with no small
diversity of opinion, the fools believing that Scannadio had been carried
off by devils. Neither of the lovers, however, forbore to make suit to
the lady for her favour and love, telling her what he had done, and what
had happened, and praying her to have him excused that he had not
perfectly carried out her instructions. But she, feigning to believe
neither of them, disposed of each with the same curt answer, to wit,
that, as he had not done her bidding, she would never do aught for him.