[Day the Second]
ANDREUCCIO OF PERUGIA, COMING TO NAPLES TO BUY HORSES, IS IN
ONE NIGHT OVERTAKEN WITH THREE GRIEVOUS ACCIDENTS, BUT
ESCAPETH THEM ALL AND RETURNETH HOME WITH A RUBY
"The stones found by Landolfo," began Fiammetta, to whose turn it came
to tell, "have brought to my mind a story scarce less full of perilous
scapes than that related by Lauretta, but differing therefrom inasmuch
as the adventures comprised in the latter befell in the course of
belike several years and these of which I have to tell in the space
of a single night, as you shall hear.
There was once in Perugia, as I have heard tell aforetime, a young
man, a horse-courser, by name Andreuccio di Pietro,[95] who, hearing
that horses were good cheap at Naples, put five hundred gold florins
in his purse and betook himself thither with other merchants, having
never before been away from home. He arrived there one Sunday evening,
towards vespers, and having taken counsel with his host, sallied forth
next morning to the market, where he saw great plenty of horses. Many
of them pleased him and he cheapened one and another, but could not
come to an accord concerning any. Meanwhile, to show that he was for
buying, he now and again, like a raw unwary clown as he was, pulled
out the purse of florins he had with him, in the presence of those who
came and went. As he was thus engaged, with his purse displayed, it
chanced that a Sicilian damsel, who was very handsome, but disposed
for a small matter to do any man's pleasure, passed near him, without
his seeing her, and catching sight of the purse, said straightway in
herself, 'Who would fare better than I, if yonder money were mine!'
And passed on.
[Footnote 95: _i.e._ son of Pietro, as they still say in Lancashire
and other northern provinces, "Tom o' Dick" for "Thomas, son of
Richard," etc.]
Now there was with her an old woman, likewise a Sicilian, who, seeing
Andreuccio, let her companion pass on and running to him, embraced him
affectionately, which when the damsel saw, she stepped aside to wait
for her, without saying aught. Andreuccio, turning to the old woman
and recognizing her, gave her a hearty greeting and she, having
promised to visit him at his inn, took leave, without holding overlong
parley there, whilst he fell again to chaffering, but bought nothing
that morning. The damsel, who had noted first Andreuccio's purse and
after her old woman's acquaintance with him, began cautiously to
enquire of the latter, by way of casting about for a means of coming
at the whole or part of the money, who and whence he was and what he
did there and how she came to know him. The old woman told her every
particular of Andreuccio's affairs well nigh as fully as he himself
could have done, having long abidden with his father, first in Sicily
and after at Perugia, and acquainted her, to boot, where he lodged and
wherefore he was come thither.
The damsel, being thus fully informed both of his name and parentage,
thereby with subtle craft laid her plans for giving effect to her
desire and returning home, set the old woman awork for the rest of the
day, so she might not avail to return to Andreuccio. Then, calling a
maid of hers, whom she had right well lessoned unto such offices, she
despatched her, towards evensong, to the inn where Andreuccio lodged.
As chance would have it, she found him alone at the door and enquired
at him of himself. He answered that he was the man she sought,
whereupon she drew him aside and said to him, 'Sir, an it please you,
a gentlewoman of this city would fain speak with you.' Andreuccio,
hearing this, considered himself from head to foot and himseeming he
was a handsome varlet of his person, he concluded (as if there were
no other well-looking young fellow to be found in Naples,) that the
lady in question must have fallen in love with him. Accordingly, he
answered without further deliberation that he was ready and asked the
girl when and where the lady would speak with him; whereto she
answered, 'Sir, whenas it pleaseth you to come, she awaiteth you in
her house'; and Andreuccio forthwith rejoined, without saying aught to
the people of the inn, 'Go thou on before; I will come after thee.'
Thereupon the girl carried him to the house of her mistress, who dwelt
in a street called Malpertugio,[96] the very name whereof denoteth how
reputable a quarter it is. But he, unknowing neither suspecting aught
thereof and thinking to go to most honourable place and to a lady of
quality, entered the house without hesitation,--preceded by the
serving-maid, who called her mistress and said, 'Here is
Andreuccio,'--and mounting the stair, saw the damsel come to the
stairhead to receive him. Now she was yet in the prime of youth, tall
of person, with a very fair face and very handsomely dressed and
adorned. As he drew near her, she came down three steps to meet him
with open arms and clasping him round the neck, abode awhile without
speaking, as if hindered by excess of tenderness; then kissed him on
the forehead, weeping, and said, in a somewhat broken voice, 'O my
Andreuccio, thou art indeed welcome.'
[Footnote 96: _i.e._ ill hole.]
He was amazed at such tender caresses and answered, all confounded,
'Madam, you are well met.' Thereupon, taking him by the hand, she
carried him up into her saloon and thence, without saying another word
to him, she brought him into her chamber, which was all redolent of
roses and orange flowers and other perfumes. Here he saw a very fine
bed, hung round with curtains, and store of dresses upon the pegs and
other very goodly and rich gear, after the usance of those parts; by
reason whereof, like a freshman as he was, he firmly believed her to
be no less than a great lady. She made him sit with her on a chest
that stood at the foot of the bed and bespoke him thus, 'Andreuccio, I
am very certain thou marvellest at these caresses that I bestow on
thee and at my tears, as he may well do who knoweth me not and hath
maybe never heard speak of me; but I have that to tell thee which is
like to amaze thee yet more, namely, that I am thy sister; and I tell
thee that, since God hath vouchsafed me to look upon one of my
brothers, (though fain would I see you all,) before my death,
henceforth I shall not die disconsolate; and as perchance thou has
never heard of this, I will tell it thee.
Pietro, my father and thine, as I doubt not thou knowest, abode long
in Palermo and there for his good humour and pleasant composition was
and yet is greatly beloved of those who knew him; but, among all his
lovers, my mother, who was a lady of gentle birth and then a widow,
was she who most affected him, insomuch that, laying aside the fear of
her father and brethren, as well as the care of her own honour, she
became so private with him that I was born thereof and grew up as thou
seest me. Presently, having occasion to depart Palermo and return to
Perugia, he left me a little maid with my mother nor ever after, for
all that I could hear, remembered him of me or her; whereof, were he
not my father, I should blame him sore, having regard to the
ingratitude shown by him to my mother (to say nothing of the love it
behoved him bear me, as his daughter, born of no serving-wench nor
woman of mean extraction) who had, moved by very faithful love,
without anywise knowing who he might be, committed into his hands her
possessions and herself no less. But what [skilleth it]? Things ill
done and long time passed are easier blamed than mended; algates, so
it was.
He left me a little child in Palermo, where being grown well nigh as I
am now, my mother, who was a rich lady, gave me to wife to a worthy
gentleman of Girgenti, who, for her love and mine, came to abide at
Palermo and there, being a great Guelph,[97] he entered into treaty
with our King Charles,[98] which, being discovered by King
Frederick,[99] ere effect could be given to it, was the occasion of
our being enforced to flee from Sicily, whenas I looked to be the
greatest lady was ever in the island; wherefore, taking such few
things as we might (I say few, in respect of the many we had) and
leaving our lands and palaces, we took refuge in this city, where we
found King Charles so mindful of our services that he hath in part
made good to us the losses we had sustained for him, bestowing on us
both lands and houses, and still maketh my husband, thy kinsman that
is, a goodly provision, as thou shalt hereafter see. On this wise come
I in this city, where, Godamercy and no thanks to thee, sweet my
brother, I now behold thee.' So saying, she embraced him over again
and kissed him on the forehead, still weeping for tenderness.
[Footnote 97: _i.e._ a member of the Guelph party, as against the
Ghibellines or partisans of the Pope.]
[Footnote 98: Charles d'Anjou, afterwards King of Sicily.]
[Footnote 99: _i.e._ Frederick II. of Germany.]
Andreuccio, hearing this fable so orderly, so artfully delivered by
the damsel, without ever stammering or faltering for a word, and
remembering it to be true that his father had been in Palermo,
knowing, moreover, by himself the fashions of young men and how
lightly they fall in love in their youth and seeing the affectionate
tears and embraces and the chaste kisses that she lavished on him,
held all she told him for more than true; wherefore, as soon as she
was silent, he answered her, saying, 'Madam, it should seem to you no
very great matter if I marvel, for that in truth, whether it be that
my father, for whatsoever reason, never spoke of your mother nor of
yourself, or that if he did, it came not to my notice, I had no more
knowledge of you than if you had never been, and so much the dearer is
it to me to find you my sister here, as I am alone in this city and
the less expected this. Indeed, I know no man of so high a condition
that you should not be dear to him, to say nothing of myself, who am
but a petty trader. But I pray you make me clear of one thing; how
knew you that I was here?' Whereto she made answer, 'A poor woman, who
much frequenteth me, gave me this morning to know of thy coming, for
that, as she telleth me, she abode long with our father both at
Palermo and at Perugia; and but that meseemed it was a more reputable
thing that thou shouldst visit me in my own house than I thee in that
of another, I had come to thee this great while agone.' After this,
she proceeded to enquire more particularly of all his kinsfolk by
name, and he answered her of all, giving the more credence, by reason
of this, to that which it the less behoved him to believe.
The talk being long and the heat great, she called for Greek wine and
confections and let give Andreuccio to drink, after which he would
have taken leave, for that it was supper-time; but she would on no
wise suffer it and making a show of being sore vexed, embraced him and
said, 'Ah, woe is me! I see but too clearly how little dear I am to
thee! Who would believe that thou couldst be with a sister of thine,
whom thou hast never yet seen and in whose house thou shouldst have
lighted down, whenas thou earnest hither, and offer to leave her, to
go sup at the inn? Indeed, thou shalt sup with me, and albeit my
husband is abroad, which grieveth me mightily, I shall know well how
to do thee some little honour, such as a woman may.' To which
Andreuccio, unknowing what else he should say, answered, 'I hold you
as dear as a sister should be held; but, an I go not, I shall be
expected to supper all the evening and shall do an unmannerliness.'
'Praised be God!' cried she. 'One would think I had no one in the
house to send to tell them not to expect thee; albeit thou wouldst do
much greater courtesy and indeed but thy duty an thou sentest to bid
thy companions come hither to supper; and after, am thou must e'en
begone, you might all go away together.'
Andreuccio replied that he had no desire for his companions that
evening; but that, since it was agreeable to her, she might do her
pleasure of him. Accordingly, she made a show of sending to the inn to
say that he was not to be expected to supper, and after much other
discourse, they sat down to supper and were sumptuously served with
various meats, whilst she adroitly contrived to prolong the repast
till it was dark night. Then, when they rose from table and Andreuccio
would have taken his leave, she declared that she would on no wise
suffer this, for that Naples was no place to go about in by night
especially for a stranger, and that, whenas she sent to the inn to say
that he was not to be expected to supper, she had at the same time
given notice that he would lie abroad. Andreuccio, believing this and
taking pleasure in being with her, beguiled as he was by false
credence, abode where he was, and after supper they held much and long
discourse, not without reason,[100] till a part of the night was past,
when she withdrew with her women into another room, leaving Andreuccio
in her own chamber, with a little lad to wait upon him, if he should
lack aught.
[Footnote 100: The reason was that she wished to keep him in play till
late into the night, when all the folk should be asleep and she might
the lightlier deal with him.]
The heat being great, Andreuccio, as soon as he found himself alone,
stripped to his doublet and putting off his hosen, laid them at the
bedhead; after which, natural use soliciting him to rid himself of the
overmuch burden of his stomach, he asked the boy where this might be
done, who showed him a door in one corner of the room and said, 'Go in
there.' Accordingly he opened the door and passing through in all
assurance, chanced to set foot on a plank, which, being broken loose
from the joist at the opposite end, [flew up] and down they went,
plank and man together. God so favoured him that he did himself no
hurt in the fall, albeit he fell from some height; but he was all
bemired with the ordure whereof the place was full; and in order that
you may the better apprehend both that which hath been said and that
which ensueth, I will show you how the place lay. There were in a
narrow alley, such as we often see between two houses, a pair of
rafters laid from one house to another, and thereon sundry boards
nailed and the place of session set up; of which boards that which
gave way with Andreuccio was one.
Finding himself, then, at the bottom of the alley and sore chagrined
at the mishap, he fell a-bawling for the boy; but the latter, as soon
as he heard him fall, had run to tell his mistress, who hastened to
his chamber and searching hurriedly if his clothes were there, found
them and with them the money, which, in his mistrust, he still
foolishly carried about him. Having now gotten that for which,
feigning herself of Palermo and sister to a Perugian, she had set her
snare, she took no more reck of him, but hastened to shut the door
whereby he had gone out when he fell.
Andreuccio, getting no answer from the boy, proceeded to call
loudlier, but to no purpose; whereupon, his suspicions being now
aroused, he began too late to smoke the cheat. Accordingly, he
scrambled over a low wall that shut off the alley from the street, and
letting himself down into the road, went up to the door of the house,
which he knew very well, and there called long and loud and shook and
beat upon it amain, but all in vain. Wherefore, bewailing himself, as
one who was now fully aware of his mischance, 'Ah, woe is me!' cried
he. 'In how little time have I lost five hundred florins and a
sister!' Then, after many other words, he fell again to battering the
door and crying out and this he did so long and so lustily that many
of the neighbours, being awakened and unable to brook the annoy, arose
and one of the courtezan's waiting-women, coming to the window,
apparently all sleepy-eyed, said peevishly, 'Who knocketh below
there?'
'What?' cried Andreuccio. 'Dost thou not know me? I am Andreuccio,
brother to Madam Fiordaliso.' Whereto quoth she, 'Good man, an thou
have drunken overmuch, go sleep and come back to-morrow morning. I
know no Andreuccio nor what be these idle tales thou tellest. Begone
in peace and let us sleep, so it please thee.' 'How?' replied
Andreuccio. 'Thou knowest not what I mean? Certes, thou knowest; but,
if Sicilian kinships be of such a fashion that they are forgotten in
so short a time, at least give me back my clothes and I will begone
with all my heart.' 'Good man,' rejoined she, as if laughing,
'methinketh thou dreamest'; and to say this and to draw in her head
and shut the window were one and the same thing. Whereat Andreuccio,
now fully certified of his loss, was like for chagrin to turn his
exceeding anger into madness and bethought himself to seek to recover
by violence that which he might not have again with words; wherefore,
taking up a great stone, he began anew to batter the door more
furiously than ever.
At this many of the neighbours, who had already been awakened and had
arisen, deeming him some pestilent fellow who had trumped up this
story to spite the woman of the house and provoked at the knocking he
kept up, came to the windows and began to say, no otherwise than as
all the dogs of a quarter bark after a strange dog, ''Tis a villainous
shame to come at this hour to decent women's houses and tell these
cock-and-bull stories. For God's sake, good man, please you begone in
peace and let us sleep. An thou have aught to mell with her, come back
to-morrow and spare us this annoy to-night.' Taking assurance,
perchance, by these words, there came to the window one who was within
the house, a bully of the gentlewoman's, whom Andreuccio had as yet
neither heard nor seen, and said, in a terrible big rough voice, 'Who
is below there?'
Andreuccio, hearing this, raised his eyes and saw at the window one
who, by what little he could make out, himseemed should be a very
masterful fellow, with a bushy black beard on his face, and who yawned
and rubbed his eyes, as he had arisen from bed or deep sleep;
whereupon, not without fear, he answered, 'I am a brother of the lady
of the house.' The other waited not for him to make an end of his
reply, but said, more fiercely than before, 'I know not what hindereth
me from coming down and cudgelling thee what while I see thee stir,
for a pestilent drunken ass as thou must be, who will not let us sleep
this night.' Then, drawing back into the house, he shut the window;
whereupon certain of the neighbours, who were better acquainted with
the fellow's quality, said softly to Andreuccio, 'For God's sake, good
man, begone in peace and abide not there to-night to be slain; get
thee gone for thine own good.'
Andreuccio, terrified at the fellow's voice and aspect and moved by
the exhortations of the neighbours, who seemed to him to speak out of
charity, set out to return to his inn, in the direction of the quarter
whence he had followed the maid, without knowing whither to go,
despairing of his money and woebegone as ever man was. Being loathsome
to himself, for the stench that came from him, and thinking to repair
to the sea to wash himself, he turned to the left and followed a
street called Ruga Catalana,[101] that led towards the upper part of
the city. Presently, he espied two men coming towards him with a
lantern and fearing they might be officers of the watch or other
ill-disposed folk, he stealthily took refuge, to avoid them, in a
hovel, that he saw hard by. But they, as of malice aforethought, made
straight for the same place and entering in, began to examine certain
irons which one of them laid from off his shoulder, discoursing
various things thereof the while.
[Footnote 101: _i.e._ Catalan Street.]
Presently, 'What meaneth this?' quoth one. 'I smell the worst stench
meseemeth I ever smelt.' So saying, he raised the lantern and seeing
the wretched Andreuccio, enquired, in amazement. 'Who is there?'
Andreuccio made no answer, but they came up to him with the light and
asked him what he did there in such a pickle; whereupon he related to
them all that had befallen him, and they, conceiving where this might
have happened, said, one to the other, 'Verily, this must have been
in the house of Scarabone Buttafuocco.' Then, turning to him, 'Good
man,' quoth one, 'albeit thou hast lost thy money, thou hast much
reason to praise God that this mischance betided thee, so that thou
fellest nor couldst after avail to enter the house again; for, hadst
thou not fallen, thou mayst be assured that, when once thou wast
fallen asleep, thou hadst been knocked on the head and hadst lost thy
life as well as thy money. But what booteth it now to repine? Thou
mayst as well look to have the stars out of the sky as to recover a
farthing of thy money; nay, thou art like to be murdered, should
yonder fellow hear that thou makest any words thereof.' Then they
consulted together awhile and presently said to him, 'Look you, we are
moved to pity for thee; wherefore, an thou wilt join with us in
somewhat we go about to do, it seemeth to us certain that there will
fall to thee for thy share much more than the value of that which thou
hast lost.' Whereupon Andreuccio, in his desperation, answered that he
was ready.
Now there had been that day buried an archbishop of Naples, by name
Messer Filippo Minutolo, and he had been interred in his richest
ornaments and with a ruby on his finger worth more than five hundred
florins of gold. Him they were minded to despoil and this their intent
they discovered to Andreuccio, who, more covetous than well-advised,
set out with them for the cathedral. As they went, Andreuccio still
stinking amain, one of the thieves said, 'Can we not find means for
this fellow to wash himself a little, be it where it may, so he may
not stink so terribly?' 'Ay can we,' answered the other. 'We are here
near a well, where there useth to be a rope and pulley and a great
bucket; let us go thither and we will wash him in a trice.'
Accordingly they made for the well in question and found the rope
there, but the bucket had been taken away; wherefore they took counsel
together to tie him to the rope and let him down into the well, so he
might wash himself there, charging him shake the rope as soon as he
was clean, and they would pull him up.
Hardly had they let him down when, as chance would have it, certain of
the watch, being athirst for the heat and with running after some
rogue or another, came to the well to drink, and the two rogues,
setting eyes on them, made off incontinent, before the officers saw
them. Presently, Andreuccio, having washed himself at the bottom of
the well, shook the rope, and the thirsty officers, laying by their
targets and arms and surcoats, began to haul upon the rope, thinking
the bucket full of water at the other end. As soon as Andreuccio found
himself near the top, he let go the rope and laid hold of the marge
with both hands; which when the officers saw, overcome with sudden
affright, they dropped the rope, without saying a word, and took to
their heels as quickliest they might. At this Andreuccio marvelled
sore, and but that he had fast hold of the marge, would have fallen to
the bottom, to his no little hurt or maybe death. However, he made his
way out and finding the arms, which he knew were none of his
companions' bringing, he was yet more amazed; but, knowing not what to
make of it and misdoubting [some snare], he determined to begone
without touching aught and accordingly made off he knew not whither,
bewailing his ill-luck.
As he went, he met his two comrades, who came to draw him forth of the
well; and when they saw him, they marvelled exceedingly and asked him
who had drawn him up. Andreuccio replied that he knew not and told
them orderly how it had happened and what he had found by the
wellside, whereupon the others, perceiving how the case stood, told
him, laughing, why they had fled and who these were that had pulled
him up. Then, without farther parley, it being now middle night, they
repaired to the cathedral and making their way thereinto lightly
enough, went straight to the archbishop's tomb, which was of marble
and very large. With their irons they raised the lid, which was very
heavy, and propped it up so as a man might enter; which being done,
quoth one, 'Who shall go in?' 'Not I,' answered the other. 'Nor I,'
rejoined his fellow; 'let Andreuccio enter.' 'That will I not,' said
the latter; whereupon the two rogues turned upon him and said, 'How!
Thou wilt not? Cock's faith, an thou enter not, we will clout thee
over the costard with one of these iron bars till thou fall dead.'
Andreuccio, affrighted, crept into the tomb, saying in himself the
while, 'These fellows will have me go in here so they may cheat me,
for that, when I shall have given them everything, they will begone
about their business, whilst I am labouring to win out of the tomb,
and I shall abide empty-handed.' Accordingly, he determined to make
sure of his share beforehand; wherefore, as soon as he came to the
bottom, calling to mind the precious ring whereof he had heard them
speak, he drew it from the archbishop's finger and set it on his own.
Then he passed them the crozier and mitre and gloves and stripping the
dead man to his shirt, gave them everything, saying that there was
nothing more. The others declared that the ring must be there and bade
him seek everywhere; but he replied that he found it not and making a
show of seeking it, kept them in play awhile. At last, the two rogues,
who were no less wily than himself, bidding him seek well the while,
took occasion to pull away the prop that held up the lid and made off,
leaving him shut in the tomb.
What became of Andreuccio, when he found himself in this plight, you
may all imagine for yourselves. He strove again and again to heave up
the lid with his head and shoulders, but only wearied himself in vain;
wherefore, overcome with chagrin and despair, he fell down in a swoon
upon the archbishop's dead body; and whoso saw him there had hardly
known which was the deader, the prelate or he. Presently, coming to
himself, he fell into a passion of weeping, seeing he must there
without fail come to one of two ends, to wit, either he must, if none
came thither to open the tomb again, die of hunger and stench, among
the worms of the dead body, or, if any came and found him there, he
would certainly be hanged for a thief.
As he abode in this mind, exceeding woebegone, he heard folk stirring
in the Church and many persons speaking and presently perceived that
they came to do that which he and his comrades had already done;
whereat fear redoubled upon him. But, after the newcomers had forced
open the tomb and propped up the lid, they fell into dispute of who
should go in, and none was willing to do it. However, after long
parley, a priest said, 'What fear ye? Think you he will eat you? The
dead eat not men. I will go in myself.' So saying, he set his breast
to the marge of the tomb and turning his head outward, put in his
legs, thinking to let himself drop. Andreuccio, seeing this, started
up and catching the priest by one of his legs, made a show of offering
to pull him down into the tomb. The other, feeling this, gave a
terrible screech and flung precipitately out of the tomb; whereupon
all the others fled in terror, as they were pursued by an hundred
thousand devils, leaving the tomb open.
Andreuccio, seeing this, scrambled hastily out of the tomb, rejoiced
beyond all hope, and made off out of the church by the way he had
entered in. The day now drawing near, he fared on at a venture, with
the ring on his finger, till he came to the sea-shore and thence made
his way back to his inn, where he found his comrades and the host, who
had been in concern for him all that night. He told them what had
betided him and themseemed, by the host's counsel, that he were best
depart Naples incontinent. Accordingly, he set out forthright and
returned to Perugia, having invested his money in a ring, whereas he
came to buy horses."