_A king of Naples, abusing a Gentleman's wife, in the end did weare
the hornes himselfe._
In the citie of Naples when king Alphonsus raigned, in whose
time wantonnesse bare chiefest sway, there was a Gentleman so
honest, beautifull and comely, as for his good conditions and
wel knowen behauiour an old Gentleman gaue to him his daughter
in mariage, which in beautie and good grace was passingly well
beloued and comfortable to her husband. The Loue was great
betwene them, till it chaunced vpon shrouetide that the king
went a masking into the citie, where euery man endeuoured to
intertaine him the best he could. And when he came to this
Gentleman's house, he was best receyued of any place in all the
towne, aswell for banqueting, as for musicall songes, and the
Gentlewoman, the fayrest that the king sawe in all the citie to
his contentacion. And vpon the end of the banket, she sang a
song with her husbande, with a grace so good as it greatly
augmented her beautie. The king seeing so many perfections in
one body, conceyued not so great pleasure in the sweete accords
of her husband and her, as he did howe to deuise to interrupt
and breake them: and the difficultie for bringinge that to
passe, was the great amitie that hee sawe betweene them,
wherefore he bare in his hart that passion so couert, as he
possibly could. But partly for his owne solace and comforte, and
partly for good will of all, hee feasted all the Lords and
Ladyes of Naples, where the Gentleman and his wife were not
forgotten. And because man willingly beleeueth that he doth see,
he thought that the lokes of that gentlewoman promised vnto him
some grace in time to come, if the presence of her husband were
no let therunto. And to proue whether his coniecture were true,
he sent her husbande in commission to Rome, for the space of XV.
dayes or III. wekes. And so sone as he was gone, his wyfe which
hitherto had not felt any long absence from her husband, made
great sorrow for the same, whereof she recomforted by the king,
many times by sweete perswasions and by presents and gifts, in
such sort, that she was not onely comforted, but contented with
her husbande's absence. And before the three weekes were expired
of his returne, she was so amorous of the king as she was no
lesse sorowful of his comming home, then she was before for his
departure. And to the intent the king's presence might not be
loste, they agreed together, that when her husband was gone to
his possessions in the countrie, she should send word to the
king, that he might haue safe repair vnto her, and so secretly
that his honour, (which he feared more then he did the fact)
might not be impaired. Vpon this hope, this Ladie's hart was set
on a merie pin: and when her husband was come home, shee
welcomed him so wel, that albeit he knewe how the king made much
of her in his absence, yet he would not beleeue that he so did
for any dishonest fact. Howbeit by continuance of time, this
fier that could not be couered, by litle and litle began to
kindle, in such wise as the husband doubted much of the truth,
and watched the matter so neere, as he was almost oute of doubt.
But for feare, least the partie which did the wrong, should do
him greater hurt, if he seemed to know it, he determined to
dissemble the matter: for he thought it better to liue with some
griefe, then to hazard his life for a woman that did not loue
him: notwithstanding, for this displeasure, he thought to be
euen with the king if it were possible. And knowinge that many
times despite maketh a woman to do that which Loue cannot bring
to passe, specially those that haue honourable harts and stoute
stomacks, was so bold without blushing, vpon a day in speaking
to the Queene, to say unto her, that he had pitie vpon her, for
that shee was no better beloued of the king her husband. The
Queene which heard tell of the loue betwene the king and his
wife: "I cannot (quoth she) both enioy honour and pleasure
together: I knowe well that honor I haue, whereof one receiueth
the pleasure, and as she hath the pleasure, so hath not she the
honor." He which knewe wel by whom those words were spoken, said
vnto her: "Madame, honor hath waited vpon you euen from your
birth, for you be of so good a house, as to be a queene or
Empresse, you cannot augment your nobilitie, but your beautie,
grace, and honestie, hath deserued so much pleasure, as she that
depriueth you of that which is incident to your degree, doth
more wrong to her self then to your person. For she for a glorie
that hath turned her to shame, hath therewithall lost so much
pleasure, as your grace or any Lady in the realme may haue. And
I may saye vnto you (Madame) that if the kinge were no king as
he is, I thincke that he could not excel me in pleasing of a
woman: being sure that to satisfie such a vertuous personage as
you be, he might exchaunge his complexion with mine." The Queene
smiling, answered him: "Although the king be of more delicate
and weaker complexion than you be, yet the loue that he beareth
mee, doth so much content mee, as I esteeme the same aboue all
thinges in the world." The gentleman said vnto her: "Madame, if
it were so, I woulde take no pitie vpon you, for I know wel that
the honest loue of your hart, would yeld vnto you great
contentment, if the like were to be found in the king: but God
hath foreseene and preuented the same, least enioyinge your owne
desire, you would make him your God vppon earth." "I confesse
vnto you (saide the Queene) that the Loue I beare him, is so
great, as the like place he could not find in no woman's hart,
as he doth in mine." "Pardon me, madame (saide the Gentleman) if
I speake more francklye, your grace hath not sounded the depth
of ech man's harte. For I dare be bold to say vnto you, that I
do know one that doth loue you, and whose loue is so great, as
your loue in respecte of his is nothing. And for so much as he
seeth the kinge's loue to faile in you his doth grow and
increase, in such sort, that if your loue were agreable vnto
his, you should be recompensed of all your losses." The Queene
aswel by his words as by his countenaunce, began to perceiue,
that the talke proceded from the bottom of his hart, and called
to her remembraunce that long time he had endeuored to do her
service, with such affection, as for loue he was growen to be
melancolike, which she thought before, to rise through his
wiue's occasion, but now she assuredly beleued that it was for
her sake. And thus the force of Loue, which is well discryed
when it is not fayned, made her sure of that, which was vnknowen
to all the world. And beholding the gentleman which was more
amiable than her husband, and seing that he was forsaken of his
wife, as she of the king, pressed with despite and ialousie of
her husband, and prouoked with loue of the gentleman, began to
say with finger in eye, and sighing sobbs: "O my God, must
vengeaunce get and win that at my hand, which Loue cannot doe?"
The gentleman well vnderstanding her meaning, aunsweared:
"Madame, vengeance is sweete vnto him which in place of killinge
an ennemye, giueth life to a perfecte freinde. I thincke it time
that trouth doe remoue from you the foolishe loue, that you
beare to him which loueth you not: and that iust and reasonable
loue should expell from you the feare, which out not remaine in
a noble and vertuous hart. But now madame, omittinge to speake
of the greatnesse of your estate, let vs consider that we be
both man and woman, the most deceiued of the world, and betrayed
of them which we haue most dearely loued. Let vs now be reuenged
(madame) not onely to render vnto them, what they deserue, but
to satisfie the loue which for my part I can no longer beare,
except I should die. And I thincke, that if your harte be not
harder than flinte, or Diamont, it is impossible but you must
perceiue som sparke of fier, which increaseth more than I am
able to dissemble: and if pitie of me which dieth for your loue,
doth not moue you to loue me, at least wyse let loue of your
self constraine you, which (being so perfect a creature as
you be) doth deserue to enioy the hartes of the noblest and most
vertuous of the world. Suffer I say, the contempt and forsaking
of him, [to] moue you, for whom you haue disdayned al other
persons." The Queene hearing those wordes, was so rauished, as
for feare to declare by her countenaunce the trouble of her
spirite, leaning vppon the Gentleman's arme, went into a garden
hard by her Chamber, where she walked a long time not able to
speake a woord. But the Gentleman seeing her halfe wonne, when
he was at the ende of the Alley where none could see them, hee
certified her by effect, the loue which so long time he kept
secrete from her. And both with one consent reioyced in reuenge,
whereof the passion was importable. And there determined, that
so oft as hee went into the Country, and the king from his
Castell into the Citie, he should retourne to the Castel to see
the Quene. Thus deceyuing the deceyuers, all foure were
partakers of the pleasure, which two alone thought to enioy. The
accord made, they departed, the Lady to her Chamber, and the
Gentleman to his house, with such contentacion, as they had
quite forgotten al theyr troubles past. And the feare which
either of them had of the assembly of the king and of the
Gentlewoman, was tourned to desire, which made the Gentleman to
go more oft then he was wonte to doe into the countrye, being
not past halfe a mile of. And so sone as the king knew therof,
he fayled not to visite his Lady, and the gentleman the night
following went to the Castle to salute the Queene, to do the
office of the kinge's Lieutenaunt, so secretly as no man did
perceiue it. This voyage endured long time, but the king because
he was a publike person, could not so well dissemble his Loue,
but all the worlde did vnderstand it, and all men pitied the
gentleman's state. For diuers light persons behinde his backe
would make hornes vnto him, in signe of mockerie, which he right
well perceyued. But this mockerie pleased him so wel, as he
esteemed his hornes better then the king's Crowne. The king and
the Gentleman's wife one day, could not refraine (beholding a
Stagge's head set vp in the Gentleman's house) from breaking
into a laughter before his face, saying, how that head became
the house very well. The gentleman that had so good a hart as
he, wrote ouer that head these words.
_These hornes I weare and beare for euery man to view,_
_But yet I weare them not in token they be trew._
The king retourning againe to the Gentleman's house, finding
this title newlye written, demaunded of the gentleman the
signification of them.
Who said vnto him:
_"If princesse secret things, be from the horned hart concealed,_
_Why should like things of horned beastes, to Princes be revealed._
But content your selfe: all they that weare hornes be pardoned
to weare their capps vpon their heads: for they be so sweete and
pleasaunt, as they vncappe no man, and they weare them so light,
as they thincke they haue none at all." The king knew well by
his wordes that he smelled something of his doings, but he neuer
suspected the loue betwene the Queene and him. For the Queene
was better contented wyth her husbande's life, and with greater
ease dissembled her griefe. Wherefore eyther parts lived long
time in this loue, till age had taken order for dissolucion
thereof. "Behold Ladyes (quoth Saffredante) this Historye which
for example I have willinglye recited to thintente that when
your husbands do make you hornes as big as a Goate, you maye
render unto him the monstrous heade of a Stagge." "Peace (quoth
Emarsuite smyling) no more wordes, least you reuiue some
sleeping sweet soule, which without stur would not awake; with
any whispring."