[Day the Fourth]
TANCRED, PRINCE OF SALERNO, SLAYETH HIS DAUGHTER'S LOVER AND
SENDETH HER HIS HEART IN A BOWL OF GOLD; WHEREUPON, POURING
POISONED WATER OVER IT, SHE DRINKETH THEREOF AND DIETH
"Our king hath this day appointed us a woeful subject of discourse,
considering that, whereas we came hither to make merry, needs must we
tell of others' tears, the which may not be recounted without moving
both those who tell and those who hearken to compassion thereof. He
hath mayhap done this somedele to temper the mirth of the foregoing
days; but, whatsoever may have moved him thereto, since it pertaineth
not to me to change his pleasure, I will relate a piteous chance, nay,
an ill-fortuned and a worthy of your tears.
Tancred, Lord of Salerno, was a humane prince and benign enough of
nature, (had he not in his old age imbrued his hands in lover's
blood,) who in all the course of his life had but one daughter, and
happier had he been if he had none. She was of him as tenderly loved
as ever daughter of father, and knowing not, by reason of this his
tender love for her, how to part with her, he married her not till she
had long overpassed the age when she should have had a husband. At
last, he gave her to wife to a son of the Duke of Capua, with whom
having abidden a little while, she was left a widow and returned to
her father. Now she was most fair of form and favour, as ever was
woman, and young and sprightly and learned perchance more than is
required of a lady. Abiding, then, with her father in all ease and
luxury, like a great lady as she was, and seeing that, for the love he
bore her, he recked little of marrying her again, nor did it seem to
her a seemly thing to require him thereof, she bethought herself to
seek, an it might be, to get her privily a worthy lover. She saw men
galore, gentle and simple, frequent her father's court, and
considering the manners and fashions of many, a young serving-man of
her father's, Guiscardo by name, a man of humble enough extraction,
but nobler of worth and manners than whatsoever other, pleased her
over all and of him, seeing him often, she became in secret ardently
enamoured, approving more and more his fashions every hour; whilst the
young man, who was no dullard, perceiving her liking for him, received
her into his heart, on such wise that his mind was thereby diverted
from well nigh everything other than the love of her.
Each, then, thus secretly tendering the other, the young lady, who
desired nothing so much as to foregather with him, but had no mind to
make any one a confidant of her passion, bethought herself of a rare
device to apprize him of the means; to wit, she wrote him a letter,
wherein she showed him how he should do to foregather with her on the
ensuing day, and placing it in the hollow of a cane, gave the letter
jestingly to Guiscardo, saying, 'Make thee a bellows thereof for thy
serving-maid, wherewith she may blow up the fire to-night.' Guiscardo
took the cane and bethinking himself that she would not have given it
him nor spoken thus, without some cause, took his leave and returned
therewith to his lodging. There he examined the cane and seeing it to
be cleft, opened it and found therein the letter, which having read
and well apprehended that which he had to do, he was the joyfullest
man alive and set about taking order how he might go to her, according
to the fashion appointed him of her.
There was, beside the prince's palace, a grotto hewn out of the rock
and made in days long agone, and to this grotto some little light was
given by a tunnel[219] by art wrought in the mountain, which latter,
for that the grotto was abandoned, was well nigh blocked at its mouth
with briers and weeds that had overgrown it. Into this grotto one
might go by a privy stair which was in one of the ground floor rooms
of the lady's apartment in the palace and which was shut in by a very
strong door. This stair was so out of all folk's minds, for that it
had been unused from time immemorial, that well nigh none remembered
it to be there; but Love, to whose eyes there is nothing so secret but
it winneth, had recalled it to the memory of the enamoured lady, who,
that none should get wind of the matter, had laboured sore many days
with such tools as she might command, ere she could make shift to open
the door; then, going down alone thereby into the grotto and seeing
the tunnel, she sent to bid Guiscardo study to come to her thereby and
acquainted him with the height which herseemed should be from the
mouth thereof to the ground.
[Footnote 219: Or airshaft (_spiraglio_).]
To this end Guiscardo promptly made ready a rope with certain knots
and loops, whereby he might avail to descend and ascend, and donning a
leathern suit, that might defend him from the briers, he on the
ensuing night repaired, without letting any know aught of the matter,
to the mouth of the tunnel. There making one end of the rope fast to a
stout tree-stump that had grown up in the mouth, he let himself down
thereby into the grotto and there awaited the lady, who, on the
morrow, feigning a desire to sleep, dismissed her women and shut
herself up alone in her chamber; then, opening the privy door, she
descended into the grotto, where she found Guiscardo. They greeted one
another with marvellous joy and betook themselves to her chamber,
where they abode great part of the day in the utmost delight; and
after they had taken order together for the discreet conduct of their
loves, so they might abide secret, Guiscardo returned to the grotto,
whilst she shut the privy door and went forth to her women. The night
come, Guiscardo climbed up by his rope to the mouth of the tunnel and
issuing forth whence he had entered in, returned to his lodging; and
having learned this road, he in process of time returned many times
thereafter.
But fortune, jealous of so long and so great a delight, with a woeful
chance changed the gladness of the two lovers into mourning and
sorrow; and it befell on this wise. Tancred was wont to come bytimes
all alone into his daughter's chamber and there abide with her and
converse awhile and after go away. Accordingly, one day, after dinner,
he came thither, what time the lady (whose name was Ghismonda) was in
a garden of hers with all her women, and willing not to take her from
her diversion, he entered her chamber, without being seen or heard of
any. Finding the windows closed and the curtains let down over the
bed, he sat down in a corner on a hassock at the bedfoot and leant his
head against the bed; then, drawing the curtain over himself, as if he
had studied to hide himself there, he fell asleep. As he slept thus,
Ghismonda, who, as ill chance would have it, had appointed her lover
to come thither that day, softly entered the chamber, leaving her
women in the garden, and having shut herself in, without perceiving
that there was some one there, opened the secret door to Guiscardo,
who awaited her. They straightway betook themselves to bed, as of
their wont, and what while they sported and solaced themselves
together, it befell that Tancred awoke and heard and saw that which
Guiscardo and his daughter did; whereat beyond measure grieved, at
first he would have cried out at them, but after bethought himself to
keep silence and abide, an he might, hidden, so with more secrecy and
less shame to himself he might avail to do that which had already
occurred to his mind.
The two lovers abode a great while together, according to their
usance, without observing Tancred, and coming down from the bed,
whenas it seemed to them time, Guiscardo returned to the grotto and
she departed the chamber; whereupon Tancred, for all he was an old
man, let himself down into the garden by a window and returned, unseen
of any, to his own chamber, sorrowful unto death. That same night, at
the time of the first sleep, Guiscardo, by his orders, was seized by
two men, as he came forth of the tunnel, and carried secretly, trussed
as he was in his suit of leather, to Tancred, who, whenas he saw him,
said, well nigh weeping, 'Guiscardo, my kindness to thee merited not
the outrage and the shame thou hast done me in mine own flesh and
blood, as I have this day seen with my very eyes.' Whereto Guiscardo
answered nothing but this, 'Love can far more than either you or I.'
Tancred then commanded that he should be kept secretly under guard and
in one of the chambers of the palace, and so was it done.
On the morrow, having meanwhile revolved in himself many and divers
devices, he betook himself, after eating, as of his wont, to his
daughter's chamber and sending for the lady, who as yet knew nothing
of these things, shut himself up with her and proceeded, with tears in
his eyes, to bespeak her thus: 'Ghismonda, meseemed I knew thy virtue
and thine honesty, nor might it ever have occurred to my mind, though
it were told me, had I not seen it with mine own eyes, that thou
wouldst, even so much as in thought, have abandoned thyself to any
man, except he were thy husband; wherefore in this scant remnant of
life that my eld reserveth unto me, I shall still abide sorrowful,
remembering me of this. Would God, an thou must needs stoop to such
wantonness, thou hadst taken a man sortable to thy quality! But,
amongst so many who frequent my court, thou hast chosen Guiscardo, a
youth of the meanest condition, reared in our court, well nigh of
charity, from a little child up to this day; wherefore thou hast put
me in sore travail of mind, for that I know not what course to take
with thee. With Guiscardo, whom I caused take yesternight, as he
issued forth of the tunnel and have in ward, I am already resolved how
to deal; but with thee God knoweth I know not what to do. On one side
love draweth me, which I still borne thee more than father ever bore
daughter, and on the other most just despite, conceived for thine
exceeding folly; the one would have me pardon thee, the other would
have me, against my nature, deal harshly by thee. But ere I come to a
decision, I would fain hear what thou hast to say to this.' So saying,
he bowed his head and wept sore as would a beaten child.
Ghismonda, hearing her father's words and seeing that not only was her
secret love discovered, but Guiscardo taken, felt an inexpressible
chagrin and came many a time near upon showing it with outcry and
tears, as women mostly do; nevertheless, her haughty soul
overmastering that weakness, with marvellous fortitude she composed
her countenance and rather than proffer any prayer for herself,
determined inwardly to abide no more on life, doubting not but her
Guiscardo was already dead. Wherefore, not as a woman rebuked and
woeful for her default, but as one undaunted and valiant, with dry
eyes and face open and nowise troubled, she thus bespoke her father:
'Tancred, I purpose neither to deny nor to entreat, for that the one
would profit me nothing nor would I have the other avail me; more by
token that I am nowise minded to seek to render thy mansuetude and
thine affection favourable to me, but rather, confessing the truth,
first with true arguments to vindicate mine honour and after with
deeds right resolutely to ensue the greatness of my soul. True is it I
have loved and love Guiscardo, and what while I live, which will be
little, I shall love him, nor, if folk live after death, shall I ever
leave loving him; but unto this it was not so much my feminine frailty
that moved me as thy little solicitude to remarry me and his own
worth.
It should have been manifest to thee, Tancred, being as thou art flesh
and blood, that thou hadst begotten a daughter of flesh and blood and
not of iron or stone; and thou shouldst have remembered and should
still remember, for all thou art old, what and what like are the laws
of youth and with what potency they work; nor, albeit thou, being a
man, hast in thy best years exercised thyself in part in arms,
shouldst thou the less know what ease and leisure and luxury can do in
the old, to say nothing of the young. I am, then, as being of thee
begotten, of flesh and blood and have lived so little that I am yet
young and (for the one and the other reason) full of carnal desire,
whereunto the having aforetime, by reason of marriage, known what
pleasure it is to give accomplishment to such desire hath added
marvellous strength. Unable, therefore, to withstand the strength of
my desires, I addressed myself, being young and a woman, to ensue that
whereto they prompted me and became enamoured. And certes in this I
set my every faculty to the endeavouring that, so far as in me lay, no
shame should ensue either to thee or to me through this to which
natural frailty moved me. To this end compassionate Love and favouring
Fortune found and showed me a very occult way, whereby, unknown of
any, I won to my desire, and this, whoever it be discovered it to
thee or howsoever thou knowest it, I nowise deny.
Guiscardo I took not at hazard, as many women do; nay, of deliberate
counsel I chose him before every other and with advisement prepense
drew him to me[220] and by dint of perseverance and discretion on my
part and on his, I have long had enjoyment of my desire. Whereof it
seemeth that thou, ensuing rather vulgar prejudice than truth,
reproachest me with more bitterness than of having sinned by way of
love, saying (as if thou shouldst not have been chagrined, had I
chosen therefor a man of gentle birth,) that I have committed myself
with a man of mean condition. Wherein thou seest not that thou blamest
not my default, but that of fortune, which too often advanceth the
unworthy to high estate, leaving the worthiest alow.
[Footnote 220: Lit. introduced him to me (_a me lo 'ntrodussi_); but
Boccaccio here uses the word _introdurre_ in its rarer literal sense
to lead, to draw, to bring in.]
But now let us leave this and look somewhat to the first principles of
things, whereby thou wilt see that we all get our flesh from one same
stock and that all souls were by one same Creator created with equal
faculties, equal powers and equal virtues. Worth it was that first
distinguished between us, who were all and still are born equal;
wherefore those who had and used the greatest sum thereof were called
noble and the rest abode not noble. And albeit contrary usance hath
since obscured this primary law, yet is it nowise done away nor
blotted out from nature and good manners; wherefore he who doth
worthily manifestly showeth himself a gentleman, and if any call him
otherwise, not he who is called, but he who calleth committeth
default. Look among all thy gentlemen and examine into their worth,
their usances and their manners, and on the other hand consider those
of Guiscardo; if thou wilt consent to judge without animosity, thou
wilt say that he is most noble and that these thy nobles are all
churls. With regard to his worth and virtue, I trusted not to the
judgment of any other, but to that of thy words and of mine own eyes.
Who ever so commended him as thou didst in all those praiseworthy
things wherefor a man of worth should be commended? And certes not
without reason; for, if mine eyes deceived me not, there was no praise
given him of thee which I saw him not justify by deeds, and that more
admirably than thy words availed to express; and even had I suffered
any deceit in this, it is by thyself I should have been deceived. An,
then, thou say that I have committed myself with a man of mean
condition, thou sayst not sooth; but shouldst thou say with a poor
man, it might peradventure be conceded thee, to thy shame who hast so
ill known to put a servant of thine and a man of worth in good case;
yet poverty bereaveth not any of gentilesse; nay, rather, wealth it is
that doth this. Many kings, many great princes were once poor and many
who delve and tend sheep were once very rich.
The last doubt that thou broachest, to wit, what thou shouldst do with
me, drive it away altogether; an thou in thine extreme old age be
disposed to do that which thou usedst not, being young, namely, to
deal cruelly, wreak thy cruelty upon me, who am minded to proffer no
prayer unto thee, as being the prime cause of this sin, if sin it be;
for of this I certify thee, that whatsoever thou hast done or shalt do
with Guiscardo, an thou do not the like with me, mine own hands shall
do it. Now begone; go shed tears with women and waxing cruel, slay him
and me with one same blow, an it seem to thee we have deserved it.'
The prince knew the greatness of his daughter's soul, but
notwithstanding believed her not altogether so firmly resolved as she
said unto that which her words gave out. Wherefore, taking leave of
her and having laid aside all intent of using rigour against her
person, he thought to cool her fervent love with other's suffering and
accordingly bade Guiscardo's two guardians strangle him without noise
that same night and taking out his heart, bring it to him. They did
even as it was commanded them, and on the morrow the prince let bring
a great and goodly bowl of gold and setting therein Guiscardo's heart,
despatched it to his daughter by the hands of a very privy servant of
his, bidding him say, whenas he gave it her, 'Thy father sendeth thee
this, to solace thee of the thing thou most lovest, even as thou hast
solaced him of that which he loved most.'
Now Ghismonda, unmoved from her stern purpose, had, after her father's
departure, let bring poisonous herbs and roots and distilled and
reduced them in water, so she might have it at hand, an that she
feared should come to pass. The serving-man coming to her with the
prince's present and message, she took the cup with a steadfast
countenance and uncovered it. Whenas she saw the heart and
apprehended the words of the message, she was throughly certified that
this was Guiscardo's heart and turning her eyes upon the messenger,
said to him, 'No sepulchre less of worth than one of gold had beseemed
a heart such as this; and in this my father hath done discreetly.' So
saying, she set the heart to her lips and kissing it, said, 'Still in
everything and even to this extreme limit of my life have I found my
father's love most tender towards me; but now more than ever;
wherefore do than render him on my part for so great a gift the last
thanks I shall ever have to give him.'
Then, bending down over the cup, which she held fast, she said,
looking upon the heart, 'Alack, sweetest harbourage of all my
pleasures, accursed be his cruelty who maketh me now to see thee with
the eyes of the body! Enough was it for me at all hours to behold thee
with those of the mind. Thou hast finished thy course and hast
acquitted thyself on such wise as was vouchsafed thee of fortune; thou
art come to the end whereunto each runneth; thou hast left the toils
and miseries of the world, and of thy very enemy thou hast that
sepulchre which thy worth hath merited. There lacked nought to thee to
make thy funeral rites complete save her tears whom in life thou so
lovedst, the which that thou mightest have, God put it into the heart
of my unnatural father to send thee to me and I will give them to
thee, albeit I had purposed to die with dry eyes and visage undismayed
of aught; and having given them to thee, I will without delay so do
that my soul, thou working it,[221] shall rejoin that soul which thou
erst so dearly guardedst. And in what company could I betake me more
contentedly or with better assurance to the regions unknown than with
it?[222] Certain am I that it abideth yet herewithin[223] and vieweth
the seats of its delights and mine and as that which I am assured
still loveth me, awaiteth my soul, whereof it is over all beloved.'
[Footnote 221: _i.e._ thou being the means of bringing about the
conjunction (_adoperandol tu_).]
[Footnote 222: _i.e._ Guiscardo's soul.]
[Footnote 223: _i.e._ in the heart.]
So saying, no otherwise than as she had a fountain of water in her
head, bowing herself over the bowl, without making any womanly outcry,
she began, lamenting, to shed so many and such tears that they were a
marvel to behold, kissing the dead heart the while an infinite number
of times. Her women, who stood about her, understood not what this
heart was nor what her words meant, but, overcome with compassion,
wept all and in vain questioned her affectionately of the cause of her
lament and studied yet more, as best they knew and might, to comfort
her. The lady, having wept as much as herseemed fit, raised her head
and drying her eyes, said, 'O much-loved heart, I have accomplished
mine every office towards thee, nor is there left me aught else to do
save to come with my soul and bear thine company.' So saying, she
called for the vial wherein was the water she had made the day before
and poured the latter into the bowl where was the heart bathed with so
many of her tears; then, setting her mouth thereto without any fear,
she drank it all off and having drunken, mounted, with the cup in her
hand, upon the bed, where composing her body as most decently she
might, she pressed her dead lover's heart to her own and without
saying aught, awaited death.
Her women, seeing and hearing all this, albeit they knew not what
water this was she had drunken, had sent to tell Tancred everything,
and he, fearing that which came to pass, came quickly down into his
daughter's chamber, where he arrived what time she laid herself on her
bed and addressed himself too late to comfort her with soft words;
but, seeing the extremity wherein she was, he fell a-weeping
grievously; whereupon quoth the lady to him, 'Tancred, keep these
tears against a less desired fate than this of mine and give them not
to me, who desire them not. Who ever saw any, other than thou, lament
for that which he himself hath willed? Nevertheless, if aught yet live
in thee of the love which once thou borest me, vouchsafe me for a last
boon that, since it was not thy pleasure that I should privily and in
secret live with Guiscardo, my body may openly abide with his,
whereassoever thou hast caused cast him dead.' The agony of his grief
suffered not the prince to reply; whereupon the young lady, feeling
herself come to her end, strained the dead heart to her breast and
said, 'Abide ye with God, for I go hence.' Then, closing her eyes and
losing every sense, she departed this life of woe. Such, then, as you
have heard, was the sorrowful ending of the loves of Guiscardo and
Ghismonda, whose bodies Tancred, after much lamentation, too late
repenting him of his cruelty, caused honourably bury in one same
sepulchre, amid the general mourning of all the people of Salerno."