--
Dom Gianni at the instance of his gossip Pietro uses an enchantment to
transform Pietro's wife into a mare; but, when he comes to attach the
tail, Gossip Pietro, by saying that he will have none of the tail, makes
the enchantment of no effect.
--
The queen's story evoked some murmurs from the ladies and some laughter
from the young men; however, when they were silent, Dioneo thus
began:--Dainty my ladies, a black crow among a flock of white doves
enhances their beauty more than would a white swan; and so, when many
sages are met together, their ripe wisdom not only shews the brighter and
goodlier for the presence of one that is not so wise, but may even derive
pleasure and diversion therefrom. Wherefore as you, my ladies, are one
and all most discreet and judicious, I, who know myself to be somewhat
scant of sense, should, for that by my demerit I make your merit shew the
more glorious, be more dear to you, than if by my greater merit I
eclipsed yours, and by consequence should have more ample license to
reveal myself to you as I am; and therefore have more patient sufferance
on your part than would be due to me, were I more discreet, in the
relation of the tale which I am about to tell you. 'Twill be, then, a
story none too long, wherefrom you may gather with what exactitude it
behoves folk to observe the injunctions of those that for any purpose use
an enchantment, and how slight an error committed therein make bring to
nought all the work of the enchanter.
A year or so ago there was at Barletta a priest named Dom Gianni di
Barolo, who, to eke out the scanty pittance his church afforded him, set
a pack-saddle upon his mare, and took to going the round of the fairs of
Apulia, buying and selling merchandise. And so it befell that he clapped
up a close acquaintance with one Pietro da Tresanti, who plied the same
trade as he, albeit instead of a mare he had but an ass; whom in token of
friendship and good-fellowship Dom Gianni after the Apulian fashion
called ever Gossip Pietro, and had him to his house and there lodged and
honourably entreated him as often as he came to Barletta. Gossip Pietro
on his part, albeit he was very poor and had but a little cot at
Tresanti, that scarce sufficed for himself, his fair, young wife, and
their ass, nevertheless, whenever Dom Gianni arrived at Tresanti, made
him welcome, and did him the honours of his house as best he might, in
requital of the hospitality which he received at Barletta. However, as
Gossip Pietro had but one little bed, in which he slept with his fair
wife, 'twas not in his power to lodge Dom Gianni as comfortably as he
would have liked; but the priest's mare being quartered beside the ass in
a little stable, the priest himself must needs lie beside her on the
straw. Many a time when the priest came, the wife, knowing how honourably
he entreated her husband at Barletta, would fain have gone to sleep with
a neighbour, one Zita Carapresa di Giudice Leo, that the priest might
share the bed with her husband, and many a time had she told the priest
so howbeit he would never agree to it, and on one occasion:--"Gossip
Gemmata," quoth he, "trouble not thyself about me; I am well lodged; for,
when I am so minded, I turn the mare into a fine lass and dally with her,
and then, when I would, I turn her back into a mare; wherefore I could
ill brook to part from her." The young woman, wondering but believing,
told her husband what the priest had said, adding:--"If he is even such a
friend as thou sayst, why dost thou not get him to teach thee the
enchantment, so that thou mayst turn me into a mare, and have both ass
and mare for thine occasions? We should then make twice as much gain as
we do, and thou couldst turn me back into a woman when we came home at
night."
Gossip Pietro, whose wit was somewhat blunt, believed that 'twas as she
said, approved her counsel, and began adjuring Dom Gianni, as
persuasively as he might, to teach him the incantation. Dom Gianni did
his best to wean him of his folly; but as all was in vain:--"Lo, now,"
quoth he, "as you are both bent on it, we will be up, as is our wont,
before the sun to-morrow morning, and I will shew you how 'tis done. The
truth is that 'tis in the attachment of the tail that the great
difficulty lies, as thou wilt see." Scarce a wink of sleep had either
Gossip Pietro or Gossip Gemmata that night, so great was their anxiety;
and towards daybreak up they got, and called Dom Gianni; who, being
risen, came in his shirt into Gossip Pietro's little bedroom, and:--"I
know not," quoth he, "that there is another soul in the world for whom I
would do this, save you, my gossips; however, as you will have it so, I
will do it, but it behoves you to do exactly as I bid you, if you would
have the enchantment work." They promised obedience, and Dom Gianni
thereupon took a light, which he handed to Gossip Pietro, saying:--"Let
nought that I shall do or say escape thee; and have a care, so thou
wouldst not ruin all, to say never a word, whatever thou mayst see or
hear; and pray God that the tail may be securely attached." So Gossip
Pietro took the light, and again promised obedience; Dom Gianni caused
Gossip Gemmata to strip herself stark naked, and stand on all fours like
a mare, at the same time strictly charging her that, whatever might
happen, she must utter no word. Then, touching her head and face:--"Be
this a fine head of a mare," quoth he; in like manner touching her hair,
he said:--"Be this a fine mane of a mare;" touching her arms:--"Be these
fine legs and fine hooves of a mare;" then, as he touched her breast and
felt its firm roundness, and there awoke and arose one that was not
called:--"And be this a fine breast of a mare," quoth he; and in like
manner he dealt with her back, belly, croup, thighs, and legs. Last of
all, the work being complete save for the tail, he lifted his shirt and
took in his hand the tool with which he was used to plant men, and
forthwith thrust it into the furrow made for it, saying:--"And be this a
fine tail of a mare." Whereat Gossip Pietro, who had followed everything
very heedfully to that point, disapproving that last particular,
exclaimed:--"No! Dom Gianni, I'll have no tail, I'll have no tail." The
essential juice, by which all plants are propagated, was already
discharged, when Dom Gianni withdrew the tool, saying:--"Alas! Gossip
Pietro, what hast thou done? Did I not tell thee to say never a word, no
matter what thou mightst see? The mare was all but made; but by speaking
thou hast spoiled all; and 'tis not possible to repeat the enchantment."
"Well and good," replied Gossip Pietro, "I would have none of that tail.
Why saidst thou not to me:--'Make it thou'? And besides, thou wast
attaching it too low." "'Twas because," returned Dom Gianni, "thou
wouldst not have known, on the first essay, how to attach it so well as
I." Whereupon the young woman stood up, and in all good faith said to her
husband:--"Fool that thou art, wherefore hast thou brought to nought what
had been for the good of us both? When didst thou ever see mare without a
tail? So help me God, poor as thou art, thou deservest to be poorer
still." So, after Gossip Pietro's ill-timed speech, there being no way
left of turning the young woman into a mare, downcast and melancholy she
resumed her clothes; and Gossip Pietro plied his old trade with his ass,
and went with Dom Gianni to the fair of Bitonto, and never asked him so
to serve him again.
What laughter this story drew from the ladies, who understood it better
than Dioneo had wished, may be left to the imagination of the fair one
that now laughs thereat. However, as the stories were ended, and the sun
now shone with a tempered radiance, the queen, witting that the end of
her sovereignty was come, stood up and took off the crown, and set it on
the head of Pamfilo, whom alone it now remained thus to honour; and said
with a smile:--"My lord, 'tis a great burden that falls upon thee, seeing
that thou, coming last, art bound to make good my shortcomings and those
of my predecessors; which God give thee grace to accomplish, even as He
has given me grace to make thee king." With gladsome acknowledgment of
the honour:--"I doubt not," replied Pamfilo, "that, thanks to your noble
qualities and those of my other subjects, I shall win even such praise as
those that have borne sway before me." Then, following the example of his
predecessors, he made all meet arrangements in concert with the
seneschal: after which, he turned to the expectant ladies, and thus
spoke:--"Enamoured my ladies, Emilia, our queen of to-day, deeming it
proper to allow you an interval of rest to recruit your powers, gave you
license to discourse of such matters as should most commend themselves to
each in turn; and as thereby you are now rested, I judge that 'tis meet
to revert to our accustomed rule. Wherefore I ordain that for to-morrow
you do each of you take thought how you may discourse of the ensuing
theme: to wit, of such as in matters of love, or otherwise, have done
something with liberality or magnificence. By the telling, and (still
more) by the doing of such things, your spirits will assuredly be duly
attuned and animated to emprise high and noble; whereby our life, which
cannot but be brief, seeing that 'tis enshrined in a mortal body, fame
shall perpetuate in glory; which whoso serves not the belly, as do the
beasts, must not only covet, but with all zeal seek after and labour to
attain."
The gay company having, one and all, approved the theme, rose at a word
from their new king, and betook them to their wonted pastimes, and so,
according as they severally had most lief, diverted them, until they
blithely reunited for supper, which being served with all due care and
despatched, they rose up to dance, as they were wont, and when they had
sung, perhaps, a thousand ditties, fitter to please by their words than
by any excellence of musical art, the king bade Neifile sing one on her
own account. And promptly and graciously, with voice clear and blithe,
thus Neifile sang:--
In prime of maidenhood, and fair and feat
'Mid spring's fresh foison chant I merrily:
Thanks be to Love and to my fancies sweet.
As o'er the grassy mead I, glancing, fare,
I mark it white and yellow and vermeil dight
With flowers, the thorny rose, the lily white:
And all alike to his face I compare,
Who, loving, hath me ta'en, and me shall e'er
Hold bounden to his will, sith I am she
That in his will findeth her joy complete.
Whereof if so it be that I do find
Any that I most like to him approve,
That pluck I straight and kiss with words of love,
Discovering all, as, best I may, my mind;
Yea, all my heart's desire; and then entwined
I set it in the chaplet daintily,
And with my yellow tresses bind and pleat.
And as mine eyes do drink in the delight
Which the flower yields them, even so my mind,
Fired with his sweet love, doth such solace find,
As he himself were present to the sight:
But never word of mine discover might
That which the flower's sweet smell awakes in me:
Witness the true tale that my sighs repeat.
For from my bosom gentle and hot they fly,
Not like the gusty sighs that others heave,
Whenas they languish and do sorely grieve;
And to my love incontinent they hie:
Whereof when he is ware, he, by and by,
To meward hasting, cometh suddenly,
When:--"Lest I faint," I cry, "come, I entreat."
The king and all the ladies did not a little commend Neifile's song;
after which, as the night was far spent, the king bade all go to rest
until the morrow.
--
Endeth here the ninth day of the Decameron, and beginneth the tenth, in
which, under the rule of Pamfilo, discourse is had of such as in matters
of love, or otherwise, have done something with liberality or
magnificence.
--
Some cloudlets in the West still shewed a vermeil flush, albeit those of
the eastern sky, as the sun's rays smote them anear, were already fringed
as with most lucent gold, when uprose Pamfilo, and roused the ladies and
his comrades. And all the company being assembled, and choice made of the
place whither they should betake them for their diversion, he,
accompanied by Filomena and Fiammetta, led the way at a slow pace,
followed by all the rest. So fared they no little space, beguiling the
time with talk of their future way of life, whereof there was much to
tell and much to answer, until, as the sun gained strength, they
returned, having made quite a long round, to the palace; and being
gathered about the fountain, such as were so minded drank somewhat from
beakers rinsed in its pure waters; and then in the delicious shade of the
garden they hied them hither and thither, taking their pleasure until
breakfast-time. Their meal taken, they slept as they were wont; and then,
at a spot chosen by the king, they reassembled, where Neifile, having
received his command to lead the way, blithely thus began.