[Day the Second]
LANDOLFO RUFFOLO, GROWN POOR, TURNETH CORSAIR AND BEING
TAKEN BY THE GENOESE, IS WRECKED AT SEA, BUT SAVETH HIMSELF
UPON A COFFER FULL OF JEWELS OF PRICE AND BEING ENTERTAINED
IN CORFU BY A WOMAN, RETURNETH HOME RICH
Lauretta, who sat next Pampinea, seeing her come to the glorious
ending of her story, began, without awaiting more, to speak on this
wise: "Most gracious ladies, there can, to my judgment, be seen no
greater feat of fortune than when we behold one raised from the lowest
misery to royal estate, even as Pampinea's story hath shown it to have
betided her Alessandro. And for that from this time forth whosoever
relateth of the appointed matter must of necessity speak within these
limits,[91] I shall think no shame to tell a story, which, albeit it
compriseth in itself yet greater distresses hath not withal so
splendid an issue. I know well, indeed, that, having regard unto that,
my story will be hearkened with less diligence; but, as I can no
otherwise, I shall be excused.
[Footnote 91: _i.e._ cannot hope to tell a story presenting more
extraordinary shifts from one to the other extreme of human fortune
than that of Pampinea.]
The sea-coast from Reggio to Gaeta is commonly believed to be well
nigh the most delightful part of Italy, and therein, pretty near
Salerno, is a hillside overlooking the sea, which the countryfolk call
Amalfi Side, full of little towns and gardens and springs and of men
as rich and stirring in the matter of trade as any in the world. Among
the said cities is one called Ravello and therein, albeit nowadays
there are rich men there, there was aforetime one, Landolfo Ruffolo by
name, who was exceeding rich and who, his wealth sufficing him not,
came nigh, in seeking to double it, to lose it all and himself withal.
This man, then, having, after the usance of merchants, laid his plans,
bought a great ship and freighting it all of his own monies with
divers merchandise, repaired therewith to Cyprus. There he found
sundry other ships come with the same kind and quality of merchandise
as he had brought, by reason of which not only was he constrained to
make great good cheap of his own venture, but it behoved him, an he
would dispose of his goods, well nigh to throw them away, whereby he
was brought near unto ruin.
Sore chagrined at this mischance and knowing not what to do, seeing
himself thus from a very rich man in brief space grown in a manner
poor, he determined either to die or repair his losses by pillage, so
he might not return thither poor, whence he had departed rich.
Accordingly, having found a purchaser for his great ship, with the
price thereof and that which he had gotten of his wares, he bought a
little vessel, light and apt for cruising and arming and garnishing it
excellent well with everything needful unto such a service, addressed
himself to make his purchase of other men's goods and especially of
those of the Turks. In this trade fortune was far kinder to him than
she had been in that of a merchant, for that, in some year's space,
he plundered and took so many Turkish vessels that he found he had not
only gotten him his own again that he had lost in trade, but had more
than doubled his former substance. Whereupon, schooled by the chagrin
of his former loss and deeming he had enough, he persuaded himself,
rather than risk a second mischance, to rest content with that which
he had, without seeking more. Accordingly he resolved to return
therewith to his own country and being fearful of trade, concerned not
himself to employ his money otherwise, but, thrusting his oars into
the water, set out homeward in that same little vessel wherewith he
had gained it.
He had already reached the Archipelago when there arose one evening a
violent south-east wind, which was not only contrary to his course,
but raised so great a sea that his little vessel could not endure it;
wherefore he took refuge in a bight of the sea, made by a little
island, and there abode sheltered from the wind and purposing there to
await better weather. He had not lain there long when two great
Genoese carracks, coming from Constantinople, made their way with
great difficulty into the little harbour, to avoid that from which
himself had fled. The newcomers espied the little ship and hearing
that it pertained to Landolfo, whom they already knew by report to be
very rich, blocked against it the way by which it might depart and
addressed themselves, like men by nature rapacious and greedy of
gain,[92] to make prize of it. Accordingly, they landed part of their
men well harnessed and armed with crossbows and posted them on such
wise that none might come down from the bark, an he would not be shot;
whilst the rest, warping themselves in with small boats and aided by
the current, laid Landolfo's little ship aboard and took it out of
hand, crew and all, without missing a man. Landolfo they carried
aboard one of the carracks, leaving him but a sorry doublet; then,
taking everything out of the ship, they scuttled her.
[Footnote 92: The Genoese have the reputation in Italy of being
thieves by nature.]
On the morrow, the wind having shifted, the carracks made sail
westward and fared on their voyage prosperously all that day; but
towards evening there arose a tempestuous wind which made the waves
run mountains high and parted the two carracks one from the other.
Moreover, from stress of wind it befell that that wherein was the
wretched and unfortunate Landolfo smote with great violence upon a
shoal over against the island of Cephalonia and parting amidships,
broke all in sunder no otherwise than a glass dashed against a wall.
The sea was in a moment all full of bales of merchandise and chests
and planks, that floated on the surface, as is wont to happen in such
cases, and the poor wretches on board, swimming, those who knew how,
albeit it was a very dark night and the sea was exceeding great and
swollen, fell to laying hold of such things as came within their
reach. Among the rest the unfortunate Landolfo, albeit many a time
that day he had called for death, (choosing rather to die than return
home poor as he found himself,) seeing it near at hand, was fearful
thereof and like the others, laid hold of a plank that came to his
hand, so haply, an he put off drowning awhile, God might send him
some means of escape.
Bestriding this, he kept himself afloat as best he might, driven
hither and thither of the sea and the wind, till daylight, when he
looked about him and saw nothing but clouds and sea and a chest
floating on the waves, which bytimes, to his sore affright, drew nigh
unto him, for that he feared lest peradventure it should dash against
him on such wise as to do him a mischief; wherefore, as often as it
came near him, he put it away from him as best he might with his hand,
albeit he had little strength thereof. But presently there issued a
sudden flaw of wind out of the air and falling on the sea, smote upon
the chest and drove it with such violence against Landolfo's plank
that the latter was overset and he himself perforce went under water.
However, he struck out and rising to the surface, aided more by fear
than by strength, saw the plank far removed from him, wherefore,
fearing he might be unable to reach it again, he made for the chest,
which was pretty near him, and laying himself flat with his breast on
the lid thereof, guided it with his arms as best he might.[93]
[Footnote 93: It seems doubtful whether _la reggeva diritta_ should
not rather be rendered "kept it upright." Boccaccio has a knack, very
trying to the translator, of constantly using words in an obscure or
strained sense.]
On this wise, tossed about by the sea now hither and now thither,
without eating, as one indeed who had not the wherewithal, but
drinking more than he could have wished, he abode all that day and the
ensuing night, unknowing where he was and descrying nought but sea;
but, on the following day, whether it was God's pleasure or stress of
wind that wrought it, he came, grown well nigh a sponge and clinging
fast with both hands to the marges of the chest, even as we see those
do who are like to drown, to the coast of the island of Corfu, where a
poor woman chanced to be scouring her pots and pans and making them
bright with sand and salt water. Seeing Landolfo draw near and
discerning in him no [human] shape, she drew back, affrighted and
crying out. He could not speak and scarce saw, wherefore he said
nothing; but presently, the sea carrying him landward, the woman
descried the shape of the chest and looking straitlier, perceived
first the arms outspread upon it and then the face and guessed it for
that which it was.
Accordingly, moved with compassion, she entered somedele into the sea,
which was now calm, and seizing Landolfo by the hair, dragged him
ashore, chest and all. There having with difficulty unclasped his
hands from the chest, she set the latter on the head of a young
daughter of hers, who was with her, and carried him off, as he were a
little child, to her hut, where she put him in a bagnio and so chafed
and bathed him with warm water that the strayed heat returned to him,
together with somewhat of his lost strength. Then, taking him up out
of the bath, whenas it seemed good to her, she comforted him with
somewhat of good wine and confections and tended him some days, as
best she might, till he had recovered his strength and knew where he
was, when she judged it time to restore him his chest, which she had
kept safe for him, and to tell him that he might now prosecute his
fortune.
Landolfo, who had no recollection of the chest, yet took it, when the
good woman presented it to him, thinking it could not be so little
worth but that it might defray his expenses for some days, but,
finding it very light, was sore abated of his hopes. Nevertheless,
what while his hostess was abroad, he broke it open, to see what it
contained, and found therein store of precious stones, both set and
unset. He had some knowledge of these matters and seeing them, knew
them to be of great value; wherefore he praised God, who had not yet
forsaken him, and was altogether comforted. However, as one who had in
brief space been twice cruelly baffled by fortune, fearing a third
misadventure, he bethought himself that it behoved him use great
wariness and he would bring those things home; wherefore, wrapping
them, as best he might, in some rags, he told the good woman that he
had no more occasion for the chest, but that, an it pleased her, she
should give him a bag and take the chest herself. This she willingly
did and he, having rendered her the best thanks in his power for the
kindness received from her, shouldered his bag and going aboard a
bark, passed over to Brindisi and thence made his way, along the
coast, to Trani.
Here he found certain townsmen of his, who were drapers and clad him
for the love of God,[94] after he had related to them all his
adventures, except that of the chest; nay more, they lent him a horse
and sent him, under escort, to Ravello, whither he said he would fain
return. There, deeming himself in safety and thanking God who had
conducted him thither, he opened his bag and examining everything more
diligently than he had yet done, found he had so many and such stones
that, supposing he sold them at a fair price or even less, he was
twice as rich again as when he departed thence. Then, finding means to
dispose of his jewels, he sent a good sum of money to Corfu to the
good woman who had brought him forth of the sea, in requital of the
service received, and the like to Trani to those who had reclothed
him. The rest he kept for himself and lived in honour and worship to
the end of his days, without seeking to trade any more."
[Footnote 94: _i.e._ for nothing.]