[Day the Third]
GILLETTE DE NARBONNE RECOVERETH THE KING OF FRANCE OF A
FISTULA AND DEMANDETH FOR HER HUSBAND BERTRAND DE
ROUSSILLON, WHO MARRIETH HER AGAINST HIS WILL AND BETAKETH
HIM FOR DESPITE TO FLORENCE, WHERE, HE PAYING COURT TO A
YOUNG LADY, GILLETTE, IN THE PERSON OF THE LATTER, LIETH
WITH HIM AND HATH BY HIM TWO SONS; WHEREFORE AFTER, HOLDING
HER DEAR, HE ENTERTAINETH HER FOR HIS WIFE
Lauretta's story being now ended, it rested but with the queen to
tell, an she would not infringe upon Dioneo's privilege; wherefore,
without waiting to be solicited by her companions, she began all
blithesomely to speak thus: "Who shall tell a story that may appear
goodly, now we have heard that of Lauretta? Certes, it was well for us
that hers was not the first, for that few of the others would have
pleased after it, as I misdoubt me[199] will betide of those which are
yet to tell this day. Natheless, be that as it may, I will e'en
recount to you that which occurreth to me upon the proposed theme.
[Footnote 199: Lit. and so I hope (_spero_), a curious instance of the
ancient Dantesque use of the word _spero_, I hope, in its contrary
sense of fear.]
There was in the kingdom of France a gentleman called Isnard, Count of
Roussillon, who, for that he was scant of health, still entertained
about his person a physician, by name Master Gerard de Narbonne. The
said count had one little son, and no more, hight Bertrand, who was
exceeding handsome and agreeable, and with him other children of his
own age were brought up. Among these latter was a daughter of the
aforesaid physician, by name Gillette, who vowed to the said Bertrand
an infinite love and fervent more than pertained unto her tender
years. The count dying and leaving his son in the hands of the king,
it behoved him betake himself to Paris, whereof the damsel abode sore
disconsolate, and her own father dying no great while after, she would
fain, an she might have had a seemly occasion, have gone to Paris to
see Bertrand: but, being straitly guarded, for that she was left rich
and alone, she saw no honourable way thereto; and being now of age for
a husband and having never been able to forget Bertrand, she had,
without reason assigned, refused many to whom her kinsfolk would have
married her.
Now it befell that, what while she burned more than ever for love of
Bertrand, for that she heard he was grown a very goodly gentleman,
news came to her how the King of France, by an imposthume which he had
had in his breast and which had been ill tended, had gotten a fistula,
which occasioned him the utmost anguish and annoy, nor had he yet been
able to find a physician who might avail to recover him thereof,
albeit many had essayed it, but all had aggravated the ill; wherefore
the king, despairing of cure, would have no more counsel nor aid of
any. Hereof the young lady was beyond measure content and bethought
herself that not only would this furnish her with a legitimate
occasion of going to Paris, but that, should the king's ailment be
such as she believed, she might lightly avail to have Bertrand to
husband. Accordingly, having aforetime learned many things of her
father, she made a powder of certain simples useful for such an
infirmity as she conceived the king's to be and taking horse, repaired
to Paris.
Before aught else she studied to see Bertrand and next, presenting
herself before the king, she prayed him of his favour to show her his
ailment. The king, seeing her a fair and engaging damsel, knew not how
to deny her and showed her that which ailed him. Whenas she saw it,
she was certified incontinent that she could heal it and accordingly
said, 'My lord, an it please you, I hope in God to make you whole of
this your infirmity in eight days' time, without annoy or fatigue on
your part.' The king scoffed in himself at her words, saying, 'That
which the best physicians in the world have availed not neither known
to do, how shall a young woman know?' Accordingly, he thanked her for
her good will and answered that he was resolved no more to follow the
counsel of physicians. Whereupon quoth the damsel, 'My lord, you make
light of my skill, for that I am young and a woman; but I would have
you bear in mind that I medicine not of mine own science, but with the
aid of God and the science of Master Gerard de Narbonne, who was my
father and a famous physician whilst he lived.'
The king, hearing this, said in himself, 'It may be this woman is sent
me of God; why should I not make proof of her knowledge, since she
saith she will, without annoy of mine, cure me in little time?'
Accordingly, being resolved to essay her, he said, 'Damsel, and if you
cure us not, after causing us break our resolution, what will you have
ensue to you therefor?' 'My lord,' answered she, 'set a guard upon me
and if I cure you not within eight days, let burn me alive; but, if I
cure you, what reward shall I have?' Quoth the king, 'You seem as yet
unhusbanded; if you do this, we will marry you well and worshipfully.'
'My lord,' replied the young lady, 'I am well pleased that you should
marry me, but I will have a husband such as I shall ask of you,
excepting always any one of your sons or of the royal house.' He
readily promised her that which she sought, whereupon she began her
cure and in brief, before the term limited, she brought him back to
health.
The king, feeling himself healed, said, 'Damsel, you have well earned
your husband'; whereto she answered, 'Then, my lord, I have earned
Bertrand de Roussillon, whom I began to love even in the days of my
childhood and have ever since loved over all.' The king deemed it a
grave matter to give him to her; nevertheless, having promised her and
unwilling to fail of his faith, he let call the count to himself and
bespoke him thus: 'Bertrand, you are now of age and accomplished [in
all that behoveth unto man's estate];[200] wherefore it is our
pleasure that you return to govern your county and carry with you a
damsel, whom we have given you to wife.' 'And who is the damsel, my
lord?' asked Bertrand; to which the king answered, 'It is she who hath
with her medicines restored to us our health.'
[Footnote 200: _Fornito_, a notable example of what the illustrious
Lewis Carroll Dodgson, Waywode of Wonderland, calls a "portmanteau-word,"
a species that abounds in mediæval Italian, for the confusion of
translators.]
Bertrand, who had seen and recognized Gillette, knowing her (albeit
she seemed to him very fair) to be of no such lineage as sorted with
his quality, said all disdainfully, 'My lord, will you then marry me
to a she-leach? Now God forbid I should ever take such an one to
wife!' 'Then,' said the king, 'will you have us fail of our faith, the
which, to have our health again, we pledged to the damsel, who in
guerdon thereof demanded you to husband?' 'My lord,' answered
Bertrand, 'you may, an you will, take from me whatsoever I possess or,
as your liegeman, bestow me upon whoso pleaseth you; but of this I
certify you, that I will never be a consenting party unto such a
marriage.' 'Nay,' rejoined the king, 'but you shall, for that the
damsel is fair and wise and loveth you dear; wherefore we doubt not
but you will have a far happier life with her than with a lady of
higher lineage.' Bertrand held his peace and the king let make great
preparations for the celebration of the marriage.
The appointed day being come, Bertrand, sore against his will, in the
presence of the king, espoused the damsel, who loved him more than
herself. This done, having already determined in himself what he
should do, he sought leave of the king to depart, saying he would fain
return to his county and there consummate the marriage; then, taking
horse, he repaired not thither, but betook himself into Tuscany,
where, hearing that the Florentines were at war with those of Sienna,
he determined to join himself to the former, by whom he was joyfully
received and made captain over a certain number of men-at-arms; and
there, being well provided[201] of them, he abode a pretty while in
their service.
[Footnote 201: _i.e._ getting good pay and allowances (_avendo buona
provisione_).]
The newly-made wife, ill content with such a lot, but hoping by her
fair dealing to recall him to his county, betook herself to
Roussillon, where she was received of all as their liege lady. There,
finding everything waste and disordered for the long time that the
land had been without a lord, with great diligence and solicitude,
like a discreet lady as she was, she set all in order again, whereof
the count's vassals were mightily content and held her exceeding dear,
vowing her a great love and blaming the count sore for that he
accepted not of her. The lady, having thoroughly ordered the county,
notified the count thereof by two knights, whom she despatched to him,
praying him that, an it were on her account he forbore to come to his
county, he should signify it to her and she, to pleasure him, would
depart thence; but he answered them very harshly, saying, 'For that,
let her do her pleasure; I, for my part, will return thither to abide
with her, whenas she shall have this my ring on her finger and in her
arms a son by me begotten.' Now the ring in question he held very dear
and never parted with it, by reason of a certain virtue which it had
been given him to understand that it had.
The knights understood the hardship of the condition implied in these
two well nigh impossible requirements, but, seeing that they might not
by their words avail to move him from his purpose, they returned to
the lady and reported to her his reply; whereat she was sore afflicted
and determined, after long consideration, to seek to learn if and
where the two things aforesaid might be compassed, to the intent that
she might, in consequence, have her husband again. Accordingly, having
bethought herself what she should do, she assembled certain of the
best and chiefest men of the county and with plaintive speech very
orderly recounted to them that which she had already done for love of
the count and showed them what had ensued thereof, adding that it was
not her intent that, through her sojourn there, the count should abide
in perpetual exile; nay, rather she purposed to spend the rest of her
life in pilgrimages and works of mercy and charity for her soul's
health; wherefore she prayed them take the ward and governance of the
county and notify the count that she had left him free and vacant
possession and had departed the country, intending nevermore to return
to Roussillon. Many were the tears shed by the good folk, whilst she
spoke, and many the prayers addressed to her that it would please her
change counsel and abide there; but they availed nought. Then,
commending them to God, she set out upon her way, without telling any
whither she was bound, well furnished with monies and jewels of price
and accompanied by a cousin of hers and a chamberwoman, all in
pilgrims' habits, and stayed not till she came to Florence, where,
chancing upon a little inn, kept by a decent widow woman, she there
took up her abode and lived quietly, after the fashion of a poor
pilgrim, impatient to hear news of her lord.
It befell, then, that on the morrow of her arrival she saw Bertrand
pass before her lodging, a-horseback with his company, and albeit she
knew him full well, natheless she asked the good woman of the inn who
he was. The hostess answered, 'That is a stranger gentleman, who
calleth himself Count Bertrand, a pleasant man and a courteous and
much loved in this city; and he is the most enamoured man in the world
of a she-neighbour of ours, who is a gentlewoman, but poor. Sooth to
say, she is a very virtuous damsel and abideth, being yet unmarried
for poverty, with her mother, a very good and discreet lady, but for
whom, maybe, she had already done the count's pleasure.' The countess
took good note of what she heard and having more closely enquired into
every particular and apprehended all aright, determined in herself how
she should do.
Accordingly, having learned the house and name of the lady whose
daughter the count loved, she one day repaired privily thither in her
pilgrim's habit and finding the mother and daughter in very poor case,
saluted them and told the former that, an it pleased her, she would
fain speak with her alone. The gentlewoman, rising, replied that she
was ready to hearken to her and accordingly carried her into a chamber
of hers, where they seated themselves and the countess began thus,
'Madam, meseemeth you are of the enemies of Fortune, even as I am;
but, an you will, belike you may be able to relieve both yourself and
me.' The lady answered that she desired nothing better than to relieve
herself by any honest means; and the countess went on, 'Needs must you
pledge me your faith, whereto an I commit myself and you deceive me,
you will mar your own affairs and mine.' 'Tell me anything you will in
all assurance,' replied the gentlewoman; 'for never shall you find
yourself deceived of me.'
Thereupon the countess, beginning with her first enamourment,
recounted to her who she was and all that had betided her to that day
after such a fashion that the gentlewoman, putting faith in her words
and having, indeed, already in part heard her story from others, began
to have compassion of her. The countess, having related her
adventures, went on to say, 'You have now, amongst my other troubles,
heard what are the two things which it behoveth me have, an I would
have my husband, and to which I know none who can help me, save only
yourself, if that be true which I hear, to wit, that the count my
husband is passionately enamoured of your daughter.' 'Madam,' answered
the gentlewoman, 'if the count love my daughter I know not; indeed he
maketh a great show thereof. But, an it be so, what can I do in this
that you desire?' 'Madam,' rejoined the countess, 'I will tell you;
but first I will e'en show you what I purpose shall ensue thereof to
you, an you serve me. I see your daughter fair and of age for a
husband and according to what I have heard, meseemeth I understand the
lack of good to marry her withal it is that causeth you keep her at
home. Now I purpose, in requital of the service you shall do me, to
give her forthright of mine own monies such a dowry as you yourself
shall deem necessary to marry her honorably.'
The mother, being needy, was pleased with the offer; algates, having
the spirit of a gentlewoman, she said, 'Madam, tell me what I can do
for you; if it consist with my honour, I will willingly do it, and you
shall after do that which shall please you.' Then said the countess,
'It behoveth me that you let tell the count my husband by some one in
whom you trust, that your daughter is ready to do his every pleasure,
so she may but be certified that he loveth her as he pretendeth, the
which she will never believe, except he send her the ring which he
carrieth on his finger and by which she hath heard he setteth such
store. An he send you the ring, you must give it to me and after send
to him to say that your daughter is ready do his pleasure; then bring
him hither in secret and privily put me to bed to him in the stead of
your daughter. It may be God will vouchsafe me to conceive and on this
wise, having his ring on my finger and a child in mine arms of him
begotten, I shall presently regain him and abide with him, as a wife
should abide with her husband, and you will have been the cause
thereof.'
This seemed a grave matter to the gentlewoman, who feared lest blame
should haply ensue thereof to her daughter; nevertheless, bethinking
her it were honourably done to help the poor lady recover her husband
and that she went about to do this to a worthy end and trusting in the
good and honest intention of the countess, she not only promised her
to do it, but, before many days, dealing with prudence and secrecy, in
accordance with the latter's instructions, she both got the ring
(albeit this seemed somewhat grievous to the count) and adroitly put
her to bed with her husband, in the place of her own daughter. In
these first embracements, most ardently sought of the count, the lady,
by God's pleasure, became with child of two sons, as her delivery in
due time made manifest. Nor once only, but many times, did the
gentlewoman gratify the countess with her husband's embraces,
contriving so secretly that never was a word known of the matter,
whilst the count still believed himself to have been, not with his
wife, but with her whom he loved; and whenas he came to take leave of
a morning, he gave her, at one time and another, divers goodly and
precious jewels, which the countess laid up with all diligence.
Then, feeling herself with child and unwilling to burden the
gentlewoman farther with such an office, she said to her, 'Madam,
thanks to God and you, I have gotten that which I desired, wherefore
it is time that I do that which shall content you and after get me
gone hence.' The gentlewoman answered that, if she had gotten that
which contented her, she was well pleased, but that she had not done
this of any hope of reward, nay, for that herseemed it behoved her to
do it, an she would do well. 'Madam,' rejoined the countess, 'that
which you say liketh me well and so on my part I purpose not to give
you that which you shall ask of me by way of reward, but to do well,
for that meseemeth behoveful so to do.' The gentlewoman, then,
constrained by necessity, with the utmost shamefastness, asked her an
hundred pounds to marry her daughter withal; but the countess, seeing
her confusion and hearing her modest demand, gave her five hundred and
so many rare and precious jewels as were worth maybe as much more.
With this the gentlewoman was far more than satisfied and rendered the
countess the best thanks in her power; whereupon the latter, taking
leave of her, returned to the inn, whilst the other, to deprive
Bertrand of all farther occasion of coming or sending to her house,
removed with her daughter into the country to the house of one of her
kinsfolk, and he, being a little after recalled by his vassals and
hearing that the countess had departed the country, returned to his
own house.
The countess, hearing that he had departed Florence and returned to
his county, was mightily rejoiced and abode at Florence till her time
came to be delivered, when she gave birth to two male children, most
like their father, and let rear them with all diligence. Whenas it
seemed to her time, she set out and came, without being known of any,
to Montpellier, where having rested some days and made enquiry of the
count and where he was, she learned that he was to hold a great
entertainment of knights and ladies at Roussillon on All Saints' Day
and betook herself thither, still in her pilgrim's habit that she was
wont to wear. Finding the knights and ladies assembled in the count's
palace and about to sit down to table, she went up, with her children
in her arms and without changing her dress, into the banqueting hall
and making her way between man and man whereas she saw the count, cast
herself at his feet and said, weeping, 'I am thine unhappy wife, who,
to let thee return and abide in thy house, have long gone wandering
miserably about the world. I conjure thee, in the name of God, to
accomplish unto me thy promise upon the condition appointed me by the
two knights I sent thee; for, behold, here in mine arms is not only
one son of thine, but two, and here is thy ring. It is time, then,
that I be received of thee as a wife, according to thy promise.'
The count, hearing this, was all confounded and recognized the ring
and the children also, so like were they to him; but yet he said, 'How
can this have come to pass?' The countess, then, to his exceeding
wonderment and that of all others who were present, orderly recounted
that which had passed and how it had happened; whereupon the count,
feeling that she spoke sooth and seeing her constancy and wit and
moreover two such goodly children, as well for the observance of his
promise as to pleasure all his liegemen and the ladies, who all
besought him thenceforth to receive and honour her as his lawful wife,
put off his obstinate despite and raising the countess to her feet,
embraced her and kissing her, acknowledged her for his lawful wife and
those for his children. Then, letting clothe her in apparel such as
beseemed her quality, to the exceeding joyance of as many as were
there and of all other his vassals who heard the news, he held high
festival, not only all that day, but sundry others, and from that day
forth still honoured her as his bride and his wife and loved and
tendered her over all."