[Day the Second]
RINALDO D'ASTI, HAVING BEEN ROBBED, MAKETH HIS WAY TO CASTEL
GUGLIELMO, WHERE HE IS HOSPITABLY ENTERTAINED BY A WIDOW
LADY AND HAVING MADE GOOD HIS LOSS, RETURNETH TO HIS OWN
HOUSE, SAFE AND SOUND
The ladies laughed immoderately at Martellino's misfortunes narrated
by Neifile, as did also the young men and especially Filostrato, whom,
for that he sat next Neifile, the queen bade follow her in
story-telling. Accordingly he began without delay, "Fair ladies, needs
must I tell you a story[79] of things Catholic,[80] in part mingled
with misadventures and love-matters, which belike will not be other
than profitable to hear, especially to those who are wayfarers in the
perilous lands of love, wherein whoso hath not said St. Julian his
Paternoster is oftentimes ill lodged, for all he have a good bed.
[Footnote 79: Lit. a story striveth in (draweth) me to be told or to
tell itself (_a raccontarsi mi tira una novella_).]
[Footnote 80: _i.e._ religious matters (_cose cattoliche_).]
In the days, then, of the Marquis Azzo of Ferrara, there came a
merchant called Rinaldo d'Asti to Bologna on his occasions, which
having despatched and returning homeward, it chanced that, as he
issued forth of Ferrara and rode towards Verona, he fell in with
certain folk who seemed merchants, but were in truth highwaymen and
men of lewd life and condition, with whom he unwarily joined company
and entered into discourse. They, seeing him to be a merchant and
judging him to have monies about him, took counsel together to rob
him, at the first opportunity that should offer; wherefore, that he
might take no suspicion, they went devising with him, like decent
peaceable folk, of things honest and seemly and of loyalty, ordering
themselves toward him, in so far as they knew and could, with respect
and complaisance, so that he deemed himself in great luck to have met
with them, for that he was alone with a serving-man of his on
horseback.
Thus faring on and passing from one thing to another, as it chanceth
in discourse, they presently fell to talking of the orisons that men
offer up to God, and one of the highwaymen, who were three in number,
said to Rinaldo, 'And you, fair sir, what orison do you use to say on
a journey?' Whereto he answered, 'Sooth to say, I am but a plain man
and little versed in these matters and have few orisons in hand; I
live after the old fashion and let a couple of shillings pass for
four-and-twenty pence.[81] Nevertheless, I have still been wont, when
on a journey, to say of a morning, what time I come forth of the inn,
a Pater and an Ave for the soul of St. Julian's father and mother,
after which I pray God and the saint to grant me a good lodging for
the ensuing night. Many a time in my day have I, in the course of my
journeyings, been in great perils, from all of which I have escaped
and have still found myself at night, to boot, in a place of safety
and well lodged. Wherefore I firmly believe that St. Julian, in whose
honour I say it, hath gotten me this favour of God; nor meseemeth
should I fare well by day nor come to good harbourage at night, except
I had said it in the morning.' 'And did you say it[82] this morning?'
asked he who had put the question to him. 'Ay did I,' answered
Rinaldo; whereupon quoth the other in himself, knowing well how the
thing was to go, 'May it stand thee in stead![83] For, an no hindrance
betide us, methinketh thou art e'en like to lodge ill.' Then, to
Rinaldo, 'I likewise,' quoth he, 'have travelled much and have never
said this orison, albeit I have heard it greatly commended, nor ever
hath it befallen me to lodge other than well; and this evening maybe
you shall chance to see which will lodge the better, you who have said
it or I who have not. True, I use, instead thereof, the _Dirupisti_ or
the _Intemerata_ or the _De Profundis_, the which, according to that
which a grandmother of mine used to tell me, are of singular virtue.'
[Footnote 81: _i.e._ take things by the first intention, without
seeking to refine upon them, or, in English popular phrase, "I do not
pretend to see farther through a stone wall than my neighbours."]
[Footnote 82: _i.e._ the aforesaid orison.]
[Footnote 83: Or "'Twill have been opportunely done of thee."]
Discoursing thus of various matters and faring on their way, on the
look out the while for time and place apt unto their knavish purpose,
they came, late in the day, to a place a little beyond Castel
Guglielmo, where, at the fording of a river, the three rogues, seeing
the hour advanced and the spot solitary and close shut in, fell upon
Rinaldo and robbed him of money, clothes and horse. Then, leaving him
afoot and in his shirt, they departed, saying, 'Go see if thy St.
Julian will give thee a good lodging this night, even as ours[84] will
assuredly do for us.' And passing the stream, they went their ways.
Rinaldo's servant, seeing him attacked, like a cowardly knave as he
was, did nought to help him, but turning his horse's head, never drew
bridle till he came to Castel Guglielmo and entering the town, took up
his lodging there, without giving himself farther concern.
[Footnote 84: _i.e._ our patron saint.]
Rinaldo, left in his shirt and barefoot, it being very cold and
snowing hard, knew not what to do and seeing the night already at
hand, looked about him, trembling and chattering the while with his
teeth, if there were any shelter to be seen therenigh, where he might
pass the night, so he should not perish of cold; but, seeing none, for
that a little before there had been war in those parts and everything
had been burnt, set off at a run, spurred by the cold, towards Castel
Guglielmo, knowing not withal if his servant were fled thither or
otherwise and thinking that, so he might but avail to enter therein,
God would send him some relief. But darkness overtook him near a mile
from the town, wherefore he arrived there so late that, the gates
being shut and the draw-bridges raised, he could get no admission.
Thereupon, despairing and disconsolate, he looked about, weeping, for
a place where he might shelter, so at the least it should not snow
upon him, and chancing to espy a house that projected somewhat beyond
the walls of the town, he determined to go bide thereunder till day.
Accordingly, betaking himself thither, he found there a door, albeit
it was shut, and gathering at foot thereof somewhat of straw that was
therenigh, he laid himself down there, tristful and woebegone,
complaining sore to St. Julian and saying that this was not of the
faith he had in him.
However, the saint had not lost sight of him and was not long in
providing him with a good lodging. There was in the town a widow lady,
as fair of favour as any woman living, whom the Marquis Azzo loved as
his life and there kept at his disposition, and she abode in that same
house, beneath the projection whereof Rinaldo had taken shelter. Now,
as chance would have it, the Marquis had come to the town that day,
thinking to lie the night with her, and had privily let make ready in
her house a bath and a sumptuous supper. Everything being ready and
nought awaited by the lady but the coming of the Marquis, it chanced
that there came a serving-man to the gate, who brought him news, which
obliged him to take horse forthright; wherefore, sending to tell his
mistress not to expect him, he departed in haste. The lady, somewhat
disconsolate at this, knowing not what to do, determined to enter the
bath prepared for the Marquis and after sup and go to bed.
Accordingly she entered the bath, which was near the door, against
which the wretched merchant was crouched without the city-wall;
wherefore she, being therein, heard the weeping and trembling kept up
by Rinaldo, who seemed as he were grown a stork,[85] and calling her
maid, said to her, 'Go up and look over the wall who is at the
postern-foot and what he doth there.' The maid went thither and aided
by the clearness of the air, saw Rinaldo in his shirt and barefoot,
sitting there, as hath been said, and trembling sore; whereupon she
asked him who he was. He told her, as briefliest he might, who he was
and how and why he was there, trembling the while on such wise that he
could scarce form the words, and after fell to beseeching her
piteously not to leave him there all night to perish of cold, [but to
succour him,] an it might be. The maid was moved to pity of him and
returning to her mistress, told her all. The lady, on like wise taking
compassion on him and remembering that she had the key of the door
aforesaid, which served whiles for the privy entrances of the Marquis,
said, 'Go softly and open to him; here is this supper and none to eat
it and we have commodity enough for his lodging.'
[Footnote 85: _i.e._ whose teeth chattered as it were the clapping of
a stork's beak.]
The maid, having greatly commended her mistress for this her humanity,
went and opening to Rinaldo, brought him in; whereupon the lady,
seeing him well nigh palsied with cold, said to him, 'Quick, good man,
enter this bath, which is yet warm.' Rinaldo, without awaiting farther
invitation, gladly obeyed and was so recomforted with the warmth of
the bath that himseemed he was come back from death to life. The lady
let fetch him a suit of clothes that had pertained to her husband,
then lately dead, which when he had donned, they seemed made to his
measure, and whilst awaiting what she should command him, he fell to
thanking God and St. Julian for that they had delivered him from the
scurvy night he had in prospect and had, as he deemed, brought him to
good harbourage.
Presently, the lady, being somewhat rested,[86] let make a great fire
in her dining-hall and betaking herself thither, asked how it was with
the poor man; whereto the maid answered, 'Madam, he hath clad himself
and is a handsome man and appeareth a person of good condition and
very well-mannered.' Quoth the lady, 'Go, call him and bid him come to
the fire and sup, for I know he is fasting.' Accordingly, Rinaldo
entered the hall and seeing the gentlewoman, who appeared to him a
lady of quality, saluted her respectfully and rendered her the best
thanks in his power for the kindness done him. The lady, having seen
and heard him and finding him even as her maid had said, received him
graciously and making him sit familiarly with her by the fire,
questioned him of the chance that had brought him thither; whereupon
he related everything to her in order. Now she had heard somewhat of
this at the time of his servant's coming into the town, wherefore she
gave entire belief to all he said and told him, in turn, what she knew
of his servant and how he might lightly find him again on the morrow.
Then, the table being laid, Rinaldo, at the lady's instance, washed
his hands and sat down with her to supper. Now he was tall of his
person and comely and pleasant of favour and very engaging and
agreeable of manners and a man in the prime of life; wherefore the
lady had several times cast her eyes on him and found him much to her
liking, and her desires being already aroused for the Marquis, who was
to have come to lie with her, she had taken a mind to him.
Accordingly, after supper, whenas they were risen from table, she took
counsel with her maid whether herseemed she would do well, the Marquis
having left her in the lurch, to use the good which fortune had sent
her. The maid, seeing her mistress's drift, encouraged her as best she
might to ensue it; whereupon the lady, returning to the fireside,
where she had left Rinaldo alone, fell to gazing amorously upon him
and said to him, 'How now, Rinaldo, why bide you thus melancholy?
Think you you cannot be requited the loss of a horse and of some small
matter of clothes? Take comfort and be of good cheer; you are in your
own house. Nay, I will e'en tell you more, that, seeing you with those
clothes on your back, which were my late husband's, and meseeming you
were himself, there hath taken me belike an hundred times to-night a
longing to embrace you and kiss you: and but that I feared to
displease you, I had certainly done it.'
[Footnote 86: _i.e._ after her bath.]
Rinaldo, who was no simpleton, hearing these words and seeing the
lady's eyes sparkle, advanced towards her with open arms, saying,
'Madam, considering that I owe it to you to say that I am now alive
and having regard to that from which you delivered me, it were great
unmannerliness in me, did I not study to do everything that may be
agreeable to you; wherefore do you embrace me and kiss me to your
heart's content, and I will kiss and clip you more than willingly.'
There needed no more words. The lady, who was all afire with amorous
longing, straightway threw herself into his arms and after she had
strained him desirefully to her bosom and bussed him a thousand times
and had of him been kissed as often, they went off to her chamber, and
there without delay betaking themselves to bed, they fully and many a
time, before the day should come, satisfied their desires one of the
other. Whenas the day began to appear, they arose,--it being her
pleasure, so the thing might not be suspected of any,--and she, having
given him some sorry clothes and a purse full of money and shown him
how he should go about to enter the town and find his servant, put him
forth at the postern whereby he had entered, praying him keep the
matter secret.
As soon as it was broad day and the gates were opened, he entered the
town, feigning to come from afar, and found his servant. Therewithal
he donned the clothes that were in the saddle-bags and was about to
mount the man's horse and depart, when, as by a miracle, it befell
that the three highwaymen, who had robbed him overnight, having been a
little after taken for some other misdeed of them committed, were
brought into the town and on their confession, his horse and clothes
and money were restored to him, nor did he lose aught save a pair of
garters, with which the robbers knew not what they had done. Rinaldo
accordingly gave thanks to God and St. Julian and taking horse,
returned home, safe and sound, leaving the three rogues to go kick on
the morrow against the wind."[87]
[Footnote 87: _i.e._ to be hanged or, in the equivalent English idiom,
to dance upon nothing.]