--
The Marquis of Saluzzo, overborne by the entreaties of his vassals,
consents to take a wife, but, being minded to please himself in the
choice of her, takes a husbandman's daughter. He has two children by her,
both of whom he makes her believe that he has put to death. Afterward,
feigning to be tired of her, and to have taken another wife, he turns her
out of doors in her shift, and brings his daughter into the house in
guise of his bride; but, finding her patient under it all, he brings her
home again, and shews her her children, now grown up, and honours her,
and causes her to be honoured, as Marchioness.
--
Ended the king's long story, with which all seemed to be very well
pleased, quoth Dioneo with a laugh:--"The good man that looked that night
to cause the bogey's tail to droop, would scarce have contributed two
pennyworth of all the praise you bestow on Messer Torello:" then, witting
that it now only remained for him to tell, thus he began:--Gentle my
ladies, this day, meseems, is dedicate to Kings and Soldans and folk of
the like quality; wherefore, that I stray not too far from you, I am
minded to tell you somewhat of a Marquis; certes, nought magnificent, but
a piece of mad folly, albeit there came good thereof to him in the end.
The which I counsel none to copy, for that great pity 'twas that it
turned out well with him.
There was in olden days a certain Marquis of Saluzzo, Gualtieri by name,
a young man, but head of the house, who, having neither wife nor child,
passed his time in nought else but in hawking and hunting, and of taking
a wife and begetting children had no thought; wherein he should have been
accounted very wise: but his vassals, brooking it ill, did oftentimes
entreat him to take a wife, that he might not die without an heir, and
they be left without a lord; offering to find him one of such a pattern,
and of such parentage, that he might marry with good hope, and be well
content with the sequel. To whom:--"My friends," replied Gualtieri, "you
enforce me to that which I had resolved never to do, seeing how hard it
is to find a wife, whose ways accord well with one's own, and how
plentiful is the supply of such as run counter thereto, and how grievous
a life he leads who chances upon a lady that matches ill with him. And to
say that you think to know the daughters by the qualities of their
fathers and mothers, and thereby--so you would argue--to provide me with
a wife to my liking, is but folly; for I wot not how you may penetrate
the secrets of their mothers so as to know their fathers; and granted
that you do know them, daughters oftentimes resemble neither of their
parents. However, as you are minded to rivet these fetters upon me, I am
content that so it be; and that I may have no cause to reproach any but
myself, should it turn out ill, I am resolved that my wife shall be of my
own choosing; but of this rest assured, that, no matter whom I choose, if
she receive not from you the honour due to a lady, you shall prove to
your great cost, how sorely I resent being thus constrained by your
importunity to take a wife against my will."
The worthy men replied that they were well content, so only he would
marry without more ado. And Gualtieri, who had long noted with approval
the mien of a poor girl that dwelt on a farm hard by his house, and found
her fair enough, deemed that with her he might pass a tolerably happy
life. Wherefore he sought no further, but forthwith resolved to marry
her; and having sent for her father, who was a very poor man, he
contracted with him to take her to wife. Which done, Gualtieri assembled
all the friends he had in those parts, and:--"My friends," quoth he, "you
were and are minded that I should take a wife, and rather to comply with
your wishes, than for any desire that I had to marry, I have made up my
mind to do so. You remember the promise you gave me, to wit, that,
whomsoever I should take, you would pay her the honour due to a lady.
Which promise I now require you to keep, the time being come when I am to
keep mine. I have found hard by here a maiden after mine own heart, whom
I purpose to take to wife, and to bring hither to my house in the course
of a few days. Wherefore bethink you, how you may make the nuptial feast
splendid, and welcome her with all honour; that I may confess myself
satisfied with your observance of your promise, as you will be with my
observance of mine." The worthy men, one and all, answered with alacrity
that they were well content, and that, whoever she might be, they would
entreat her as a lady, and pay her all due honour as such. After which,
they all addressed them to make goodly and grand and gladsome celebration
of the event, as did also Gualtieri. He arranged for a wedding most
stately and fair, and bade thereto a goodly number of his friends and
kinsfolk, and great gentlemen, and others, of the neighbourhood; and
therewithal he caused many a fine and costly robe to be cut and fashioned
to the figure of a girl who seemed to him of the like proportions as the
girl that he purposed to wed; and laid in store, besides, of girdles and
rings, with a costly and beautiful crown, and all the other paraphernalia
of a bride.
The day that he had appointed for the wedding being come, about half
tierce he got him to horse with as many as had come to do him honour, and
having made all needful dispositions:--"Gentlemen," quoth he, "'tis time
to go bring home the bride." And so away he rode with his company to the
village; where, being come to the house of the girl's father, they found
her returning from the spring with a bucket of water, making all the
haste she could, that she might afterwards go with the other women to see
Gualtieri's bride come by. Whom Gualtieri no sooner saw, than he called
her by her name, to wit, Griselda, and asked her where her father was. To
whom she modestly made answer:--"My lord, he is in the house." Whereupon
Gualtieri dismounted, and having bidden the rest await him without,
entered the cottage alone; and meeting her father, whose name was
Giannucolo:--"I am come," quoth he, "to wed Griselda, but first of all
there are some matters I would learn from her own lips in thy presence."
He then asked her, whether, if he took her to wife, she would study to
comply with his wishes, and be not wroth, no matter what he might say or
do, and be obedient, with not a few other questions of a like sort: to
all which she answered, ay. Whereupon Gualtieri took her by the hand, led
her forth, and before the eyes of all his company, and as many other folk
as were there, caused her to strip naked, and let bring the garments that
he had had fashioned for her, and had her forthwith arrayed therein, and
upon her unkempt head let set a crown; and then, while all
wondered:--"Gentlemen," quoth he, "this is she whom I purpose to make my
wife, so she be minded to have me for husband." Then, she standing
abashed and astonied, he turned to her, saying:--"Griselda, wilt thou
have me for thy husband?" To whom:--"Ay, my lord," answered she. "And I
will have thee to wife," said he, and married her before them all. And
having set her upon a palfrey, he brought her home with pomp.
The wedding was fair and stately, and had he married a daughter of the
King of France, the feast could not have been more splendid. It seemed as
if, with the change of her garb, the bride had acquired a new dignity of
mind and mien. She was, as we have said, fair of form and feature; and
therewithal she was now grown so engaging and gracious and debonair, that
she shewed no longer as the shepherdess, and the daughter of Giannucolo,
but as the daughter of some noble lord, insomuch that she caused as many
as had known her before to marvel. Moreover, she was so obedient and
devoted to her husband, that he deemed himself the happiest and luckiest
man in the world. And likewise so gracious and kindly was she to her
husband's vassals, that there was none of them but loved her more dearly
than himself, and was zealous to do her honour, and prayed for her
welfare and prosperity and aggrandisement, and instead of, as erstwhile,
saying that Gualtieri had done foolishly to take her to wife, now averred
that he had not his like in the world for wisdom and discernment, for
that, save to him, her noble qualities would ever have remained hidden
under her sorry apparel and the garb of the peasant girl. And in short
she so comported herself as in no long time to bring it to pass that, not
only in the marquisate, but far and wide besides, her virtues and her
admirable conversation were matter of common talk, and, if aught had been
said to the disadvantage of her husband, when he married her, the
judgment was now altogether to the contrary effect.
She had not been long with Gualtieri before she conceived; and in due
time she was delivered of a girl; whereat Gualtieri made great cheer.
But, soon after, a strange humour took possession of him, to wit, to put
her patience to the proof by prolonged and intolerable hard usage;
wherefore he began by afflicting her with his gibes, putting on a vexed
air, and telling her that his vassals were most sorely dissatisfied with
her by reason of her base condition, and all the more so since they saw
that she was a mother, and that they did nought but most ruefully murmur
at the birth of a daughter. Whereto Griselda, without the least change of
countenance or sign of discomposure, made answer:--"My lord, do with me
as thou mayst deem best for thine own honour and comfort, for well I wot
that I am of less account than they, and unworthy of this honourable
estate to which of thy courtesy thou hast advanced me." By which answer
Gualtieri was well pleased, witting that she was in no degree puffed up
with pride by his, or any other's, honourable entreatment of her. A while
afterwards, having in general terms given his wife to understand that the
vassals could not endure her daughter, he sent her a message by a
servant. So the servant came, and:--"Madam," quoth he with a most
dolorous mien, "so I value my life, I must needs do my lord's bidding. He
has bidden me take your daughter and..." He said no more, but the lady by
what she heard, and read in his face, and remembered of her husband's
words, understood that he was bidden to put the child to death. Whereupon
she presently took the child from the cradle, and having kissed and
blessed her, albeit she was very sore at heart, she changed not
countenance, but placed it in the servant's arms, saying:--"See that thou
leave nought undone that my lord and thine has charged thee to do, but
leave her not so that the beasts and the birds devour her, unless he have
so bidden thee." So the servant took the child, and told Gualtieri what
the lady had said; and Gualtieri, marvelling at her constancy, sent him
with the child to Bologna, to one of his kinswomen, whom he besought to
rear and educate the child with all care, but never to let it be known
whose child she was.
Soon after it befell that the lady again conceived, and in due time was
delivered of a son, whereat Gualtieri was overjoyed. But, not content
with what he had done, he now even more poignantly afflicted the lady;
and one day with a ruffled mien:--"Wife," quoth he, "since thou gavest
birth to this boy, I may on no wise live in peace with my vassals, so
bitterly do they reproach me that a grandson of Giannucolo is to succeed
me as their lord; and therefore I fear that, so I be not minded to be
sent a packing hence, I must even do herein as I did before, and in the
end put thee away, and take another wife." The lady heard him patiently,
and answered only:--"My lord, study how thou mayst content thee and best
please thyself, and waste no thought upon me, for there is nought I
desire save in so far as I know that 'tis thy pleasure." Not many days
after, Gualtieri, in like manner as he had sent for the daughter, sent
for the son, and having made a shew of putting him to death, provided for
his, as for the girl's, nurture at Bologna. Whereat the lady shewed no
more discomposure of countenance or speech than at the loss of her
daughter: which Gualtieri found passing strange, and inly affirmed that
there was never another woman in the world that would have so done. And
but that he had marked that she was most tenderly affectionate towards
her children, while 'twas well pleasing to him, he had supposed that she
was tired of them, whereas he knew that 'twas of her discretion that she
so did. His vassals, who believed that he had put the children to death,
held him mightily to blame for his cruelty, and felt the utmost
compassion for the lady. She, however, said never aught to the ladies
that condoled with her on the death of her children, but that the
pleasure of him that had begotten them was her pleasure likewise.
Years not a few had passed since the girl's birth, when Gualtieri at
length deemed the time come to put his wife's patience to the final
proof. Accordingly, in the presence of a great company of his vassals he
declared that on no wise might he longer brook to have Griselda to wife,
that he confessed that in taking her he had done a sorry thing and the
act of a stripling, and that he therefore meant to do what he could to
procure the Pope's dispensation to put Griselda away, and take another
wife: for which cause being much upbraided by many worthy men, he made no
other answer but only that needs must it so be. Whereof the lady being
apprised, and now deeming that she must look to go back to her father's
house, and perchance tend the sheep, as she had aforetime, and see him,
to whom she was utterly devoted, engrossed by another woman, did inly
bewail herself right sorely: but still with the same composed mien with
which she had borne Fortune's former buffets, she set herself to endure
this last outrage. Nor was it long before Gualtieri by counterfeit
letters, which he caused to be sent to him from Rome, made his vassals
believe that the Pope had thereby given him a dispensation to put
Griselda away, and take another wife. Wherefore, having caused her to be
brought before him, he said to her in the presence of not a few:--"Wife,
by license granted me by the Pope, I am now free to put thee away, and
take another wife; and, for that my forbears have always been great
gentlemen and lords of these parts, whereas thine have ever been
husbandmen, I purpose that thou go back to Giannucolo's house with the
dowry that thou broughtest me; whereupon I shall bring home a lady that I
have found, and who is meet to be my wife."
'Twas not without travail most grievous that the lady, as she heard this
announcement, got the better of her woman's nature, and suppressing her
tears, made answer:--"My lord, I ever knew that my low degree was on no
wise congruous with your nobility, and acknowledged that the rank I had
with you was of your and God's bestowal, nor did I ever make as if it
were mine by gift, or so esteem it, but still accounted it as a loan.
'Tis your pleasure to recall it, and therefore it should be, and is, my
pleasure to render it up to you. So, here is your ring, with which you
espoused me; take it back. You bid me take with me the dowry that I
brought you; which to do will require neither paymaster on your part nor
purse nor packhorse on mine; for I am not unmindful that naked was I when
you first had me. And if you deem it seemly that that body in which I
have borne children, by you begotten, be beheld of all, naked will I
depart; but yet, I pray you, be pleased, in guerdon of the virginity that
I brought you and take not away, to suffer me to bear hence upon my back
a single shift--I crave no more--besides my dowry." There was nought of
which Gualtieri was so fain as to weep; but yet, setting his face as a
flint, he made answer:--"I allow thee a shift to thy back; so get thee
hence." All that stood by besought him to give her a robe, that she, who
had been his wife for thirteen years and more, might not be seen to quit
his house in so sorry and shameful a plight, having nought on her but a
shift. But their entreaties went for nothing: the lady in her shift, and
barefoot and bareheaded, having bade them adieu, departed the house, and
went back to her father amid the tears and lamentations of all that saw
her. Giannucolo, who had ever deemed it a thing incredible that Gualtieri
should keep his daughter to wife, and had looked for this to happen every
day, and had kept the clothes that she had put off on the morning that
Gualtieri had wedded her, now brought them to her; and she, having
resumed them, applied herself to the petty drudgery of her father's
house, as she had been wont, enduring with fortitude this cruel
visitation of adverse Fortune.
Now no sooner had Gualtieri dismissed Griselda, than he gave his vassals
to understand that he had taken to wife a daughter of one of the Counts
of Panago. He accordingly made great preparations as for the nuptials,
during which he sent for Griselda. To whom, being come, quoth he:--"I am
bringing hither my new bride, and in this her first home-coming I purpose
to shew her honour; and thou knowest that women I have none in the house
that know how to set chambers in due order, or attend to the many other
matters that so joyful an event requires; wherefore do thou, that
understandest these things better than another, see to all that needs be
done, and bid hither such ladies as thou mayst see fit, and receive them,
as if thou wert the lady of the house, and then, when the nuptials are
ended, thou mayst go back to thy cottage." Albeit each of these words
pierced Griselda's heart like a knife, for that, in resigning her good
fortune, she had not been able to renounce the love she bore Gualtieri,
nevertheless:--"My lord," she made answer, "I am ready and prompt to do
your pleasure." And so, clad in her sorry garments of coarse romagnole,
she entered the house, which, but a little before, she had quitted in her
shift, and addressed her to sweep the chambers, and arrange arras and
cushions in the halls, and make ready the kitchen, and set her hand to
everything, as if she had been a paltry serving-wench: nor did she rest
until she had brought all into such meet and seemly trim as the occasion
demanded. This done, she invited in Gualtieri's name all the ladies of
those parts to be present at his nuptials, and awaited the event. The day
being come, still wearing her sorry weeds, but in heart and soul and mien
the lady, she received the ladies as they came, and gave each a gladsome
greeting.
Now Gualtieri, as we said, had caused his children to be carefully
nurtured and brought up by a kinswoman of his at Bologna, which kinswoman
was married into the family of the Counts of Panago; and, the girl being
now twelve years old, and the loveliest creature that ever was seen, and
the boy being about six years old, he had sent word to his kinswoman's
husband at Bologna, praying him to be pleased to come with this girl and
boy of his to Saluzzo, and to see that he brought a goodly and honourable
company with him, and to give all to understand that he brought the girl
to him to wife, and on no wise to disclose to any, who she really was.
The gentleman did as the Marquis bade him, and within a few days of his
setting forth arrived at Saluzzo about breakfast-time with the girl, and
her brother, and a noble company, and found all the folk of those parts,
and much people besides, gathered there in expectation of Gualtieri's new
bride. Who, being received by the ladies, was no sooner come into the
hall, where the tables were set, than Griselda advanced to meet her,
saying with hearty cheer:--"Welcome, my lady." So the ladies, who had
with much instance, but in vain, besought Gualtieri, either to let
Griselda keep in another room, or at any rate to furnish her with one of
the robes that had been hers, that she might not present herself in such
a sorry guise before the strangers, sate down to table; and the service
being begun, the eyes of all were set on the girl, and every one said
that Gualtieri had made a good exchange, and Griselda joined with the
rest in greatly commending her, and also her little brother. And now
Gualtieri, sated at last with all that he had seen of his wife's
patience, marking that this new and strange turn made not the least
alteration in her demeanour, and being well assured that 'twas not due to
apathy, for he knew her to be of excellent understanding, deemed it time
to relieve her of the suffering which he judged her to dissemble under a
resolute front; and so, having called her to him in presence of them all,
he said with a smile:--"And what thinkst thou of our bride?" "My lord,"
replied Griselda, "I think mighty well of her; and if she be but as
discreet as she is fair--and so I deem her--I make no doubt but you may
reckon to lead with her a life of incomparable felicity; but with all
earnestness I entreat you, that you spare her those tribulations which
you did once inflict upon another that was yours, for I scarce think she
would be able to bear them, as well because she is younger, as for that
she has been delicately nurtured, whereas that other had known no respite
of hardship since she was but a little child." Marking that she made no
doubt but that the girl was to be his wife, and yet spoke never a whit
the less sweetly, Gualtieri caused her to sit down beside him,
and:--"Griselda," said he, "'tis now time that thou see the reward of thy
long patience, and that those, who have deemed me cruel and unjust and
insensate, should know that what I did was done of purpose aforethought,
for that I was minded to give both thee and them a lesson, that thou
mightst learn to be a wife, and they in like manner might learn how to
take and keep a wife, and that I might beget me perpetual peace with thee
for the rest of my life; whereof being in great fear, when I came to take
a wife, lest I should be disappointed, I therefore, to put the matter to
the proof, did, and how sorely thou knowest, harass and afflict thee. And
since I never knew thee either by deed or by word to deviate from my
will, I now, deeming myself to have of thee that assurance of happiness
which I desired, am minded to restore to thee at once all that, step by
step, I took from thee, and by extremity of joy to compensate the
tribulations that I inflicted on thee. Receive, then, this girl, whom
thou supposest to be my bride, and her brother, with glad heart, as thy
children and mine. These are they, whom by thee and many another it has
long been supposed that I did ruthlessly to death, and I am thy husband,
that loves thee more dearly than aught else, deeming that other there is
none that has the like good cause to be well content with his wife."
Which said, he embraced and kissed her; and then, while she wept for joy,
they rose and hied them there where sate the daughter, all astonied to
hear the news, whom, as also her brother, they tenderly embraced, and
explained to them, and many others that stood by, the whole mystery.
Whereat the ladies, transported with delight, rose from table and betook
them with Griselda to a chamber, and, with better omen, divested her of
her sorry garb, and arrayed her in one of her own robes of state; and so,
in guise of a lady (howbeit in her rags she had shewed as no less) they
led her back into the hall. Wondrous was the cheer which there they made
with the children; and, all overjoyed at the event, they revelled and
made merry amain, and prolonged the festivities for several days; and
very discreet they pronounced Gualtieri, albeit they censured as
intolerably harsh the probation to which he had subjected Griselda, and
most discreet beyond all compare they accounted Griselda.
Some days after, the Count of Panago returned to Bologna, and Gualtieri
took Giannucolo from his husbandry, and established him in honour as his
father-in-law, wherein to his great solace he lived for the rest of his
days. Gualtieri himself, having mated his daughter with a husband of high
degree, lived long and happily thereafter with Griselda, to whom he ever
paid all honour.
Now what shall we say in this case but that even into the cots of the
poor the heavens let fall at times spirits divine, as into the palaces of
kings souls that are fitter to tend hogs than to exercise lordship over
men? Who but Griselda had been able, with a countenance not only
tearless, but cheerful, to endure the hard and unheard-of trials to which
Gualtieri subjected her? Who perhaps might have deemed himself to have
made no bad investment, had he chanced upon one, who, having been turned
out of his house in her shift, had found means so to dust the pelisse of
another as to get herself thereby a fine robe.
So ended Dioneo's story, whereof the ladies, diversely inclining, one to
censure where another found matter for commendation, had discoursed not a
little, when the king, having glanced at the sky, and marked that the sun
was now low, insomuch that 'twas nigh the vesper hour, still keeping his
seat, thus began:--"Exquisite my ladies, as, methinks, you wot, 'tis not
only in minding them of the past and apprehending the present that the
wit of mortals consists; but by one means or the other to be able to
foresee the future is by the sages accounted the height of wisdom. Now,
to-morrow, as you know, 'twill be fifteen days since, in quest of
recreation and for the conservation of our health and life, we, shunning
the dismal and dolorous and afflicting spectacles that have ceased not in
our city since this season of pestilence began, took our departure from
Florence. Wherein, to my thinking, we have done nought that was not
seemly; for, if I have duly used my powers of observation, albeit some
gay stories, and of a kind to stimulate concupiscence, have here been
told, and we have daily known no lack of dainty dishes and good wine, nor
yet of music and song, things, one and all, apt to incite weak minds to
that which is not seemly, neither on your part, nor on ours, have I
marked deed or word, or aught of any kind, that called for reprehension;
but, by what I have seen and heard, seemliness and the sweet intimacy of
brothers and sisters have ever reigned among us. Which, assuredly, for
the honour and advantage which you and I have had thereof, is most
grateful to me. Wherefore, lest too long continuance in this way of life
might beget some occasion of weariness, and that no man may be able to
misconstrue our too long abidance here, and as we have all of us had our
day's share of the honour which still remains in me, I should deem it
meet, so you be of like mind, that we now go back whence we came: and
that the rather that our company, the bruit whereof has already reached
divers others that are in our neighbourhood, might be so increased that
all our pleasure would be destroyed. And so, if my counsel meet with your
approval, I will keep the crown I have received of you until our
departure, which, I purpose, shall be tomorrow morning. Should you decide
otherwise, I have already determined whom to crown for the ensuing day."
Much debate ensued among the ladies and young men; but in the end they
approved the king's proposal as expedient and seemly; and resolved to do
even as he had said. The king therefore summoned the seneschal; and
having conferred with him of the order he was to observe on the morrow,
he dismissed the company until supper-time. So, the king being risen, the
ladies and the rest likewise rose, and betook them, as they were wont, to
their several diversions. Supper-time being come, they supped with
exceeding great delight. Which done, they addressed them to song and
music and dancing; and, while Lauretta was leading a dance, the king bade
Fiammetta give them a song; whereupon Fiammetta right debonairly sang on
this wise:--
So came but Love, and brought no jealousy,
So blithe, I wot, as I,
Dame were there none, be she whoe'er she be.
If youth's fresh, lusty pride
May lady of her lover well content,
Or valour's just renown,
Hardihood, prowess tried,
Wit, noble mien, discourse most excellent,
And of all grace the crown;
That she am I, who, fain for love to swoun,
There where my hope doth lie
These several virtues all conjoined do see.
But, for that I less wise
Than me no whit do other dames discern,
Trembling with sore dismay,
I still the worst surmise,
Deeming their hearts with the same flame to burn
That of mine maketh prey:
Wherefore of him that is my hope's one stay
Disconsolate I sigh,
Yea mightily, and daily do me dree.
If but my lord as true
As worthy to be loved I might approve,
I were not jealous then:
But, for that charmer new
Doth all too often gallant lure to love,
Forsworn I hold all men,
And sick at heart I am, of death full fain;
Nor lady doth him eye,
But I do quake, lest she him wrest from me.
'Fore God, then, let each she
List to my prayer, nor e'er in my despite
Such grievous wrong essay;
For should there any be
That by or speech or mien's allurements light
Of him to rob me may
Study or plot, I, witting, shall find way,
My beauty it aby!
To cause her sore lament such frenesie.
As soon as Fiammetta had ended her song, Dioneo, who was beside her, said
with a laugh:--"Madam, 'twould be a great courtesy on your part to do all
ladies to wit, who he is, that he be not stolen from you in ignorance,
seeing that you threaten such dire resentment." Several other songs
followed; and it being then nigh upon midnight, all, as the king was
pleased to order, betook them to rest. With the first light of the new
day they rose, and, the seneschal having already conveyed thence all
their chattels, they, following the lead of their discreet king, hied
them back to Florence; and in Santa Maria Novella, whence they had set
forth, the three young men took leave of the seven ladies, and departed
to find other diversions elsewhere, while the ladies in due time repaired
to their homes.