THE FIRST STORY

[Day the Third]

MASETTO OF LAMPORECCHIO FEIGNETH HIMSELF DUMB AND BECOMETH

GARDENER TO A CONVENT OF WOMEN, WHO ALL FLOCK TO LIE WITH

HIM

"Fairest ladies, there be many men and women foolish enough to believe

that, whenas the white fillet is bound about a girl's head and the

black cowl clapped upon her back, she is no longer a woman and is no

longer sensible of feminine appetites, as if the making her a nun had

changed her to stone; and if perchance they hear aught contrary to

this their belief, they are as much incensed as if a very great and

heinous misdeed had been committed against nature, considering not

neither having regard to themselves, whom full license to do that

which they will availeth not to sate, nor yet to the much potency of

idlesse and thought-taking.[151] On like wise there are but too many

who believe that spade and mattock and coarse victuals and hard living

do altogether purge away carnal appetites from the tillers of the

earth and render them exceeding dull of wit and judgment. But how much

all who believe thus are deluded, I purpose, since the queen hath

commanded it to me, to make plain to you in a little story, without

departing from the theme by her appointed.

[Footnote 151: _Sollecitudine._ The commentators will have it that

this is an error for _solitudine_, solitude, but I see no necessity

for the substitution, the text being perfectly acceptable as it

stands.]

There was (and is yet) in these our parts a convent of women, very

famous for sanctity (the which, that I may not anywise abate its

repute, I will not name), wherein no great while agone, there being

then no more than eight nuns and an abbess, all young, in the nunnery,

a poor silly dolt of a fellow was gardener of a very goodly garden of

theirs, who, being miscontent with his wage, settled his accounts with

the ladies' bailiff and returned to Lamporecchio, whence he came.

There, amongst others who welcomed him home, was a young labouring

man, stout and robust and (for a countryman) a well-favoured fellow,

by name of Masetto, who asked him where he had been so long. The good

man, whose name was Nuto, told him, whereupon Masetto asked him in

what he had served the convent, and he, 'I tended a great and goodly

garden of theirs, and moreover I went while to the coppice for faggots

and drew water and did other such small matters of service; but the

nuns gave me so little wage that I could scare find me in shoon

withal. Besides, they are all young and methinketh they are possessed

of the devil, for there was no doing anything to their liking; nay,

when I was at work whiles in the hortyard,[152] quoth one, "Set this

here," and another, "Set that here," and a third snatched the spade

from my hand, saying, "That is naught"; brief, they gave me so much

vexation that I would leave work be and begone out of the hortyard;

insomuch that, what with one thing and what with another, I would

abide there no longer and took myself off. When I came away, their

bailiff besought me, an I could lay my hand on any one apt unto that

service, to send the man to him, and I promised it him; but may God

make him sound of the loins as he whom I shall get him, else will I

send him none at all!' Masetto, hearing this, was taken with so great

a desire to be with these nuns that he was all consumed therewith,

judging from Nuto's words that he might avail to compass somewhat of

that which he desired. However, foreseeing that he would fail of his

purpose, if he discovered aught thereof to Nuto, he said to the

latter, 'Egad, thou didst well to come away. How is a man to live with

women? He were better abide with devils. Six times out of seven they

know not what they would have themselves.' But, after they had made an

end of their talk, Masetto began to cast about what means he should

take to be with them and feeling himself well able to do the offices

of which Nuto had spoken, he had no fear of being refused on that

head, but misdoubted him he might not be received, for that he was

young and well-looked. Wherefore, after pondering many things in

himself, he bethought himself thus: 'The place is far hence and none

knoweth me there, an I can but make a show of being dumb, I shall for

certain be received there.' Having fixed upon this device, he set out

with an axe he had about his neck, without telling any whither he was

bound, and betook himself, in the guise of a beggarman, to the

convent, where being come, he entered in and as luck would have it,

found the bailiff in the courtyard. Him he accosted with signs such as

dumb folk use and made a show of asking food of him for the love of

God and that in return he would, an it were needed, cleave wood for

him. The bailiff willingly gave him to eat and after set before him

divers logs that Nuto had not availed to cleave, but of all which

Masetto, who was very strong, made a speedy despatch. By and by, the

bailiff, having occasion to go to the coppice, carried him thither and

put him to cutting faggots; after which, setting the ass before him,

he gave him to understand by signs that he was to bring them home.

This he did very well; wherefore the bailiff kept him there some days,

so he might have him do certain things for which he had occasion. One

day it chanced that the abbess saw him and asked the bailiff who he

was. 'Madam,' answered he, 'this is a poor deaf and dumb man, who came

hither the other day to ask an alms; so I took him in out of charity

and have made him do sundry things of which we had need. If he knew

how to till the hortyard and chose to abide with us, I believe we

should get good service of him; for that we lack such an one and he is

strong and we could make what we would of him; more by token that you

would have no occasion to fear his playing the fool with yonder lasses

of yours.' 'I' faith,' rejoined the abbess, 'thou sayst sooth. Learn

if he knoweth how to till and study to keep him here; give him a pair

of shoes and some old hood or other and make much of him, caress him,

give him plenty to eat.' Which the bailiff promised to do. Masetto was

not so far distant but he heard all this, making a show the while of

sweeping the courtyard, and said merrily in himself, 'An you put me

therein, I will till you your hortyard as it was never tilled yet.'

Accordingly, the bailiff, seeing that he knew right well how to work,

asked him by signs if he had a mind to abide there and he replied on

like wise that he would do whatsoever he wished; whereupon the bailiff

engaged him and charged him till the hortyard, showing him what he was

to do; after which he went about other business of the convent and

left him. Presently, as Masetto went working one day after another,

the nuns fell to plaguing him and making mock of him, as ofttimes it

betideth that folk do with mutes, and bespoke him the naughtiest words

in the world, thinking he understood them not; whereof the abbess,

mayhap supposing him to be tailless as well as tongueless, recked

little or nothing. It chanced one day, however, that, as he rested

himself after a hard morning's work, two young nuns, who went about

the garden,[153] drew near the place where he lay and fell to looking

upon him, whilst he made a show of sleeping. Presently quoth one who

was somewhat the bolder of the twain to the other, 'If I thought thou

wouldst keep my counsel, I would tell thee a thought which I have once

and again had and which might perchance profit thee also.' 'Speak in

all assurance,' answered the other, 'for certes I will never tell it

to any.' Then said the forward wench, 'I know not if thou have ever

considered how straitly we are kept and how no man dare ever enter

here, save the bailiff, who is old, and yonder dumb fellow; and I have

again and again heard ladies, who come to visit us, say that all other

delights in the world are but toys in comparison with that which a

woman enjoyeth, whenas she hath to do with a man. Wherefore I have

often had it in mind to make trial with this mute, since with others I

may not, if it be so. And indeed he is the best in the world to that

end, for that, e'en if he would, he could not nor might tell it

again. Thou seest he is a poor silly lout of a lad, who hath overgrown

his wit, and I would fain hear how thou deemest of the thing.'

'Alack!' rejoined the other, 'what is this thou sayest? Knowest thou

not that we have promised our virginity to God?' 'Oh, as for that,'

answered the first, 'how many things are promised Him all day long,

whereof not one is fulfilled unto Him! An we have promised it Him, let

Him find Himself another or others to perform it to Him.' 'Or if,'

went on her fellow, 'we should prove with child, how would it go

then?' Quoth the other, 'Thou beginnest to take thought unto ill ere

it cometh; when that betideth, then will we look to it; there will be

a thousand ways for us of doing so that it shall never be known,

provided we ourselves tell it not.' The other, hearing this and having

now a greater itch than her companion to prove what manner beast a man

was, said, 'Well, then, how shall we do?' Quoth the first, 'Thou seest

it is nigh upon none and methinketh the sisters are all asleep, save

only ourselves; let us look about the hortyard if there be any there,

and if there be none, what have we to do but to take him by the hand

and carry him into yonder hut, whereas he harboureth against the rain,

and there let one of us abide with him, whilst the other keepeth

watch? He is so simple that he will do whatever we will.' Masetto

heard all this talk and disposed to compliance, waited but to be taken

by one of the nuns. The latter having looked well all about and

satisfied themselves that they could be seen from nowhere, she who had

broached the matter came up to Masetto and aroused him, whereupon he

rose incontinent to his feet. The nun took him coaxingly by the hand

and led him, grinning like an idiot, to the hut, where, without

overmuch pressing, he did what she would. Then, like a loyal comrade,

having had her will, she gave place to her fellow, and Masetto, still

feigning himself a simpleton, did their pleasure. Before they departed

thence, each of the girls must needs once more prove how the mute

could horse it, and after devising with each other, they agreed that

the thing was as delectable as they had heard, nay, more so.

Accordingly, watching their opportunity, they went oftentimes at

fitting seasons to divert themselves with the mute, till one day it

chanced that one of their sisters, espying them in the act from the

lattice of her cell, showed it to other twain. At first they talked of

denouncing the culprits to the abbess, but, after, changing counsel

and coming to an accord with the first two, they became sharers with

them in Masetto's services, and to them the other three nuns were at

divers times and by divers chances added as associates. Ultimately,

the abbess, who had not yet gotten wind of these doings, walking one

day alone in the garden, the heat being great, found Masetto (who had

enough of a little fatigue by day, because of overmuch posting it by

night) stretched out asleep under the shade of an almond-tree, and the

wind lifting the forepart of his clothes, all abode discovered. The

lady, beholding this and seeing herself alone, fell into that same

appetite which had gotten hold of her nuns, and arousing Masetto,

carried him to her chamber, where, to the no small miscontent of the

others, who complained loudly that the gardener came not to till the

hortyard, she kept him several days, proving and reproving that

delight which she had erst been wont to blame in others. At last she

sent him back to his own lodging, but was fain to have him often again

and as, moreover, she required of him more than her share, Masetto,

unable to satisfy so many, bethought himself that his playing the mute

might, an it endured longer, result in his exceeding great hurt.

Wherefore, being one night with the abbess, he gave loose to[154] his

tongue and bespoke her thus: 'Madam, I have heard say that one cock

sufficeth unto half a score hens, but that half a score men can ill or

hardly satisfy one woman; whereas needs must I serve nine, and to this

I can no wise endure; nay, for that which I have done up to now, I am

come to such a pass that I can do neither little nor much; wherefore

do ye either let me go in God's name or find a remedy for the matter.'

The abbess, hearing him speak whom she held dumb, was all amazed and

said, 'What is this? Methought thou wast dumb.' 'Madam,' answered

Masetto, 'I was indeed dumb, not by nature, but by reason of a malady

which bereft me of speech, and only this very night for the first time

do I feel it restored to me, wherefore I praise God as most I may.'

The lady believed this and asked him what he meant by saying that he

had to serve nine. Masetto told her how the case stood, whereby she

perceived that she had no nun but was far wiser than herself; but,

like a discreet woman as she was, she resolved to take counsel with

her nuns to find some means of arranging the matter, without letting

Masetto go, so the convent might not be defamed by him. Accordingly,

having openly confessed to one another that which had been secretly

done of each, they all of one accord, with Masetto's consent, so

ordered it that the people round about believed speech to have been

restored to him, after he had long been mute, through their prayers

and by the merits of the saint in whose name the convent was

intituled, and their bailiff being lately dead, they made Masetto

bailiff in his stead and apportioned his toils on such wise that he

could endure them. Thereafter, albeit he began upon them monikins

galore, the thing was so discreetly ordered that nothing took vent

thereof till after the death of the abbess, when Masetto began to grow

old and had a mind to return home rich. The thing becoming known,

enabled him lightly to accomplish his desire, and thus Masetto, having

by his foresight contrived to employ his youth to good purpose,

returned in his old age, rich and a father, without being at the pains

or expense of rearing children, to the place whence he had set out

with an axe about his neck, avouching that thus did Christ entreat

whoso set horns to his cap."

[Footnote 152: Hortyard (_orto_) is the old form of orchard, properly

an enclosed tract of land in which fruit, vegetables and potherbs are

cultivated for use, _i.e._ the modern kitchen garden and orchard in

one, as distinguished from the pleasaunce or flower garden

(_giardino_).]

[Footnote 153: _Giardino_, _i.e._ flower-garden.]

[Footnote 154: Lit. broke the string of.]

The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio · 第 35 / 114 题