[Day the Fourth]
A PHYSICIAN'S WIFE PUTTETH HER LOVER FOR DEAD IN A CHEST,
WHICH TWO USURERS CARRY OFF TO THEIR OWN HOUSE, GALLANT AND
ALL. THE LATTER, WHO IS BUT DRUGGED, COMETH PRESENTLY TO
HIMSELF AND BEING DISCOVERED, IS TAKEN FOR A THIEF; BUT THE
LADY'S MAID AVOUCHETH TO THE SEIGNORY THAT SHE HERSELF HAD
PUT HIM INTO THE CHEST STOLEN BY THE TWO USURERS, WHEREBY HE
ESCAPETH THE GALLOWS AND THE THIEVES ARE AMERCED IN CERTAIN
MONIES
Filostrato having made an end of his telling, it rested only with
Dioneo to accomplish his task, who, knowing this and it being
presently commanded him of the king, began as follows: 'The sorrows
that have been this day related of ill fortuned loves have saddened
not only your eyes and hearts, ladies, but mine also; wherefore I have
ardently longed for an end to be made thereof. Now that, praised be
God, they are finished (except I should choose to make an ill addition
to such sorry ware, from which God keep me!), I will, without farther
ensuing so dolorous a theme, begin with something blither and better,
thereby perchance affording a good argument for that which is to be
related on the ensuing day.
You must know, then, fairest lasses, that there was in Salerno, no
great while since, a very famous doctor in surgery, by name Master
Mazzeo della Montagna, who, being already come to extreme old age,
took to wife a fair and gentle damsel of his city and kept better
furnished with sumptuous and rich apparel and jewels and all that can
pleasure a lady than any woman of the place. True it is she went
a-cold most of her time, being kept of her husband ill covered abed;
for, like as Messer Ricardo di Chinzica (of whom we already told)
taught his wife to observe saints' days and holidays, even so the
doctor pretended to her that once lying with a woman necessitated I
know not how many days' study to recruit the strength and the like
toys; whereof she abode exceeding ill content and like a discreet and
high-spirited woman as she was, bethought herself, so she might the
better husband the household good, to betake herself to the highway
and seek to spend others' gear. To this end, considering divers young
men, at last she found one to her mind and on him she set all her
hope; whereof he becoming aware and she pleasing him mightily, he in
like manner turned all his love upon her.
The spark in question was called Ruggieri da Jeroli, a man of noble
birth, but of lewd life and blameworthy carriage, insomuch that he had
left himself neither friend nor kinsman who wished him well or cared
to see him and was defamed throughout all Salerno for thefts and other
knaveries of the vilest; but of this the lady recked little, he
pleasing her for otherwhat, and with the aid of a maid of hers, she
wrought on such wise that they came together. After they had taken
some delight, the lady proceeded to blame his past way of life and to
pray him, for the love of her, to desist from these ill fashions; and
to give him the means of doing this, she fell to succouring him, now
with one sum of money and now with another. On this wise they abode
together, using the utmost discretion, till it befell that a sick man
was put into the doctor's hands, who had a gangrened leg, and Master
Mazzeo, having examined the case, told the patient's kinsfolk that,
except a decayed bone he had in his leg were taken out, needs must he
have the whole limb cut off or die, and that, by taking out the bone,
he might recover, but that he would not undertake him otherwise than
for a dead man; to which those to whom the sick man pertained agreed
and gave the latter into his hands for such. The doctor, judging that
the patient might not brook the pain nor would suffer himself to be
operated, without an opiate, and having appointed to set about the
matter at evensong, let that morning distil a certain water of his
composition, which being drunken by the sick man, should make him
sleep so long as he deemed necessary for the performing of the
operation upon him, and fetching it home, set it in his chamber,
without telling any what it was.
The hour of vespers come and the doctor being about to go to the
patient in question, there came to him a messenger from certain very
great friends of his at Malfi, charging him fail not for anything to
repair thither incontinent, for that there had been a great fray
there, in which many had been wounded. Master Mazzeo accordingly put
off the tending of the leg until the ensuing morning and going aboard
a boat, went off to Malfi, whereupon his wife, knowing that he would
not return home that night, let fetch Ruggieri, as of her wont, and
bringing him into her chamber, locked him therewithin, against certain
other persons of the house should be gone to sleep. Ruggieri, then,
abiding in the chamber, awaiting his mistress, and being,--whether for
fatigue endured that day or salt meat that he had eaten or maybe for
usance,--sore, athirst, caught sight of the flagon of water, which the
doctor had prepared for the sick man and which stood in the window,
and deeming it drinking water, set it to his mouth and drank it all
off; nor was it long ere a great drowsiness took him and he fell
asleep.
The lady came to the chamber as first she might and finding Ruggieri
asleep, nudged him and bade him in a low voice arise, but to no
effect, for he replied not neither stirred anywhit; whereat she was
somewhat vexed and nudged him more sharply, saying, 'Get up, slugabed!
An thou hadst a mind to sleep, thou shouldst have betaken thee to
thine own house and not come hither.' Ruggieri, being thus pushed,
fell to the ground from a chest whereon he lay and gave no more sign
of life than a dead body; whereupon the lady, now somewhat alarmed,
began to seek to raise him up and to shake him more roughly, tweaking
him by the nose and plucking him by the beard, but all in vain; he had
tied his ass to a fast picket.[257] At this she began to fear lest he
were dead; nevertheless she proceeded to pinch him sharply and burn
his flesh with a lighted taper, but all to no purpose; wherefore,
being no doctress, for all her husband was a physician, she doubted
not but he was dead in very deed. Loving him over all else as she
did, it needeth no asking if she were woebegone for this and daring
not make any outcry, she silently fell a-weeping over him and
bewailing so sore a mishap.
[Footnote 257: A proverbial way of saying that he was fast asleep.]
After awhile, fearing to add shame to her loss, she bethought herself
that it behoved her without delay find a means of carrying the dead
man forth of the house and knowing not how to contrive this, she
softly called her maid and discovering to her her misadventure sought
counsel of her. The maid marvelled exceedingly and herself pulled and
pinched Ruggieri, but, finding him without sense or motion, agreed
with her mistress that he was certainly dead and counselled her put
him forth of the house. Quoth the lady, 'And where can we put him, so
it may not be suspected, whenas he shall be seen to-morrow morning,
that he hath been brought out hence?' 'Madam,' answered the maid, 'I
saw, this evening at nightfall, over against the shop of our neighbour
yonder the carpenter, a chest not overbig, the which, an the owner
have not taken it in again, will come very apt for our affair; for
that we can lay him therein, after giving him two or three slashes
with a knife, and leave him be. I know no reason why whoso findeth him
should suppose him to have been put there from this house rather than
otherwhence; nay, it will liefer be believed, seeing he was a young
man of lewd life, that he hath been slain by some enemy of his, whilst
going about to do some mischief or other, and after clapped in the
chest.'
The maid's counsel pleased the lady, save that she would not hear of
giving him any wound, saying that for naught in the world would her
heart suffer her to do that. Accordingly she sent her to see if the
chest were yet whereas she had noted it and she presently returned and
said, 'Ay.' Then, being young and lusty, with the aid of her mistress,
she took Ruggieri on her shoulders and carrying him out,--whilst the
lady forewent her, to look if any came,--clapped him into the chest
and shutting down the lid, left him there. Now it chanced that, a day
or two before, two young men, who lent at usance, had taken up their
abode in a house a little farther and lacking household gear, but
having a mind to gain much and spend little, had that day espied the
chest in question and had plotted together, if it should abide there
the night, to carry it off to their own house. Accordingly, midnight
come, they sallied forth and finding the chest still there, without
looking farther, they hastily carried it off, for all it seemed to
them somewhat heavy, to their own house, where they set it down beside
a chamber in which their wives slept and there leaving it, without
concerning themselves for the nonce to settle it overnicely, betook
them to bed.
Presently, the morning drawing near, Ruggieri, who had slept a great
while, having by this time digested the sleeping draught and exhausted
its effects, awoke and albeit his sleep was broken and his senses in
some measure restored, there abode yet a dizziness in his brain, which
held him stupefied, not that night only, but some days after. Opening
his eyes and seeing nothing, he put out his hands hither and thither
and finding himself in the chest, bethought himself and said, 'What is
this? Where am I? Am I asleep or awake? Algates I mind me that I came
this evening into my mistress's chamber and now meseemeth I am in a
chest. What meaneth this? Can the physician have returned or other
accident befallen, by reason whereof the lady hath hidden me here, I
being asleep? Methinketh it must have been thus; assuredly it was so.'
Accordingly, he addressed himself to abide quiet and hearken if he
could hear aught and after he had abidden thus a great while, being
somewhat ill at ease in the chest, which was small, and the side
whereon he lay irking him, he would have turned over to the other and
wrought so dexterously that, thrusting his loins against one of the
sides of the chest, which had not been set on a level place, he caused
it first to incline to one side and after topple over. In falling, it
made a great noise, whereat the women who slept therenigh awoke and
being affrighted, were silent for fear. Ruggieri was sore alarmed at
the fall of the chest, but, finding that it had opened in the fall,
chose rather, if aught else should betide, to be out of it than to
abide therewithin. Accordingly, he came forth and what with knowing
not where he was and what with one thing and another, he fell to
groping about the house, so haply he should find a stair or a door,
whereby he might get him gone.
The women, hearing this, began to say, 'Who is there?' But Ruggieri,
knowing not the voice, answered not; whereupon they proceeded to call
the two young men, who, for that they had overwatched themselves,
slept fast and heard nothing of all this. Thereupon the women, waxing
more fearful, arose and betaking themselves to the windows, fell
a-crying, 'Thieves! Thieves!' At this sundry of the neighbours ran up
and made their way, some by the roof and some by one part and some by
another, into the house; and the young men also, awaking for the
noise, arose and seized Ruggieri, who finding himself there, was in a
manner beside himself for wonderment and saw no way of escape. Then
they gave him into the hands of the officers of the governor of the
city, who had now run thither at the noise and carried him before
their chief. The latter, for that he was held of all a very sorry
fellow, straightway put him to the question and he confessed to having
entered the usurers' house to steal; whereupon the governor thought to
let string him up by the neck without delay.
The news was all over Salerno by the morning that Ruggieri had been
taken in the act of robbing the money-lenders' house, which the lady
and her maid hearing, they were filled with such strange and exceeding
wonderment that they were like to persuade themselves that they had
not done, but had only dreamed of doing, that which they had done
overnight; whilst the lady, to boot, was so concerned at the news of
the danger wherein Ruggieri was that she was like to go mad. Soon
after half tierce[258] the physician, having returned from Malfi and
wishing to medicine his patient, called for his prepared water and
finding the flagon empty, made a great outcry, saying that nothing
could abide as it was in his house. The lady, who was troubled with
another great chagrin, answered angrily, saying 'What wouldst thou
say, doctor, of grave matter, whenas thou makest such an outcry anent
a flagonlet of water overset? Is there no more water to be found in
the world?' 'Wife,' rejoined the physician, 'thou thinkest this was
common water; it was not so; nay, it was a water prepared to cause
sleep'; and told her for what occasion he had made it. When she heard
this, she understood forthright that Ruggieri had drunken the opiate
and had therefore appeared to them dead and said to her husband,
'Doctor, we knew it not; wherefore do you make yourself some more';
and the physician, accordingly, seeing he might not do otherwise, let
make thereof anew.
[Footnote 258: _i.e._ about half-past seven a.m.]
A little after, the maid, who had gone by her mistress's commandment
to learn what should be reported of Ruggieri, returned and said to
her, 'Madam, every one missaith of Ruggieri; nor, for aught I could
hear, is there friend or kinsman who hath risen up or thinketh to rise
up to assist him, and it is held certain that the prefect of police
will have him hanged to-morrow. Moreover, I have a strange thing to
tell you, to wit, meseemeth I have discovered how he came into the
money-lenders' house, and hear how. You know the carpenter overagainst
whose shop was the chest wherein we laid him; he was but now at the
hottest words in the world with one to whom it seemeth the chest
belonged; for the latter demanded of him the price of his chest, and
the carpenter replied that he had not sold it, but that it had that
night been stolen from him. Whereto, "Not so," quoth the other, "nay,
thou soldest it to the two young men, the money-lenders yonder, as
they told me yesternight, when I saw it in their house what time
Ruggieri was taken." "They lie," answered the carpenter. "I never sold
it to them; but they stole it from me yesternight. Let us go to them."
So they went off with one accord to the money-lenders' house, and I
came back hither. On this wise, as you may see, I conclude that
Ruggieri was transported whereas he was found; but how he came to life
again I cannot divine.'
The lady now understood very well how the case stood and telling the
maid what she had heard from the physician, besought her help to save
Ruggieri, for that she might, an she would, at once save him and
preserve her honour. Quoth she, 'Madam, teach me how, and I will
gladly do anything.' Whereupon the lady, whose wits were sharpened by
the urgency of the case, having promptly bethought herself of that
which was to do, particularly acquainted the maid therewith, who first
betook herself to the physician and weeping, began to say to him,
'Sir, it behoveth me ask you pardon of a great fault, which I have
committed against you.' 'In what?' asked the doctor, and she, never
giving over weeping, answered, 'Sir, you know what manner young man is
Ruggieri da Jeroli. He took a liking to me awhile agone and partly for
fear and partly for love, needs must I become his mistress.
Yesternight, knowing that you were abroad, he cajoled me on such wise
that I brought him into your house to lie with me in my chamber, and
he being athirst and I having no whither more quickly to resort for
water or wine, unwilling as I was that your lady, who was in the
saloon, should see me, I remembered me to have seen a flagon of water
in your chamber. Accordingly, I ran for it and giving him the water to
drink, replaced the flagon whence I had taken it, whereof I find you
have made a great outcry in the house. And certes I confess I did ill;
but who is there doth not ill bytimes? Indeed, I am exceeding grieved
to have done it, not so much for the thing itself as for that which
hath ensued of it and by reason whereof Ruggieri is like to lose his
life. Wherefore I pray you, as most I may, pardon me and give me leave
to go succour Ruggieri inasmuch as I can.' The physician, hearing
this, for all he was angry, answered jestingly, 'Thou hast given
thyself thine own penance therefor, seeing that, whereas thou
thoughtest yesternight to have a lusty young fellow who would shake
thy skincoats well for thee, thou hadst a sluggard; wherefore go and
endeavour for the deliverance of thy lover; but henceforth look thou
bring him not into the house again, or I will pay thee for this time
and that together.'
The maid, thinking she had fared well for the first venue, betook
herself, as quickliest she might, to the prison, where Ruggieri lay
and coaxed the gaoler to let her speak with the prisoner, whom after
she had instructed what answers he should make to the prefect of
police, an he would fain escape, she contrived to gain admission to
the magistrate himself. The latter, for that she was young and buxom,
would fain, ere he would hearken to her, cast his grapnel aboard the
good wench, whereof she, to be the better heard, was no whit chary;
then, having quitted herself of the grinding due,[259] 'Sir,' said
she, 'you have here Ruggieri da Jeroli taken for a thief; but the
truth is not so.' Then, beginning from the beginning, she told him the
whole story; how she, being his mistress, had brought him into the
physician's house and had given him the drugged water to drink,
unknowing what it was, and how she had put him for dead into the
chest; after which she told him the talk she had heard between the
master carpenter and the owner of the chest, showing him thereby how
Ruggieri had come into the money-lenders' house.
[Footnote 259: Or "having risen from the grinding" (_levatasi dal
macinio_).]
The magistrate, seeing it an easy thing to come at the truth of the
matter, first questioned the physician if it were true of the water
and found that it was as she had said; whereupon he let summon the
carpenter and him to whom the chest belonged and the two money-lenders
and after much parley, found that the latter had stolen the chest
overnight and put it in their house. Ultimately he sent for Ruggieri
and questioned him where he had lain that night, whereto he replied
that where he had lain he knew not; he remembered indeed having gone
to pass the night with Master Mazzeo's maid, in whose chamber he had
drunken water for a sore thirst he had; but what became of him after
he knew not, save that, when he awoke, he found himself in the
money-lenders' house in a chest. The prefect, hearing these things and
taking great pleasure therein, caused the maid and Ruggieri and the
carpenter and the money-lenders repeat their story again and again;
and in the end, seeing Ruggieri to be innocent, he released him and
amerced the money-lenders in half a score ounces for that they had
stolen the chest. How welcome this was to Ruggieri, none need ask, and
it was beyond measure pleasing to his mistress, who together with her
lover and the precious maid, who had proposed to give him the slashes
with the knife, many a time after laughed and made merry of the
matter, still continuing their loves and their disport from good to
better; the which I would well might so betide myself, save always the
being put in the chest."
* * * * *
If the former stories had saddened the hearts of the lovesome ladies,
this last one of Dioneo's made them laugh heartily, especially when he
spoke of the prefect casting his grapnel aboard the maid, that they
were able thus to recover themselves of the melancholy caused by the
others. But the king, seeing that the sun began to grow yellow and
that the term of his seignory was come, with very courteous speech
excused himself to the fair ladies for that which he had done, to wit,
that he had caused discourse of so sorrowful a matter as that of
lovers' infelicity; which done, he rose to his feet and taking from
his head the laurel wreath, whilst the ladies waited to see on whom he
should bestow it, set it daintily on Fiammetta's fair head, saying, "I
make over this crown to thee, as to her who will, better than any
other, know how with to-morrow's pleasance to console these ladies our
companions of to-day's woefulness."
Fiammetta, whose locks were curled and long and golden and fell over
her white and delicate shoulders and whose soft-rounded face was all
resplendent with white lilies and vermeil roses commingled, with two
eyes in her head as they were those of a peregrine falcon and a dainty
little mouth, the lips whereof seemed twin rubies, answered, smiling,
"And I, Filostrato, I take it willingly, and that thou mayst be the
better cognizant of that which thou hast done, I presently will and
command that each prepare to discourse to-morrow of THAT WHICH HATH
HAPPILY BETIDED LOVERS AFTER SUNDRY CRUEL AND MISFORTUNATE
ADVENTURES." Her proposition[260] was pleasing unto all and she, after
summoning the seneschal and taking counsel with him of things needful,
arising from session, blithely dismissed all the company until
supper-time. Accordingly, they all proceeded, according to their
various appetites, to take their several pleasures, some wandering
about the garden, whose beauties were not such as might lightly tire,
and other some betaking themselves towards the mills which wrought
therewithout, whilst the rest fared some hither and some thither,
until the hour of supper, which being come, they all foregathered, as
of their wont, anigh the fair fountain and there supped with exceeding
pleasance and well served. Presently, arising thence, they addressed
themselves, as of their wont, to dancing and singing, and Filomena
leading off the dance, the queen said, "Filostrato, I purpose not to
depart from the usance of those who have foregone me in the sovranty,
but, like as they have done, so I intend that a song be sung at my
commandment; and as I am assured that thy songs are even such as are
thy stories, it is our pleasure that, so no more days than this be
troubled with thine ill fortunes, thou sing such one thereof as most
pleaseth thee." Filostrato replied that he would well and forthright
proceeded to sing on this wise:
[Footnote 260: _i.e._ the theme proposed by her.]
Weeping, I demonstrate
How sore with reason doth my heart complain
Of love betrayed and plighted faith in vain.
Love, whenas first there was of thee imprest
Thereon[261] her image for whose sake I sigh,
Sans hope of succour aye,
So full of virtue didst thou her pourtray,
That every torment light accounted I
That through thee to my breast
Grown full of drear unrest
And dole, might come; but now, alack! I'm fain
To own my error, not withouten pain.
Yea, of the cheat first was I made aware,
Seeing myself of her forsaken sheer,
In whom I hoped alone;
For, when I deemed myself most fairly grown
Into her favour and her servant dear,
Without her thought or care
Of my to-come despair,
I found she had another's merit ta'en
To heart and put me from her with disdain.
Whenas I knew me banished from my stead,
Straight in my heart a dolorous plaint there grew,
That yet therein hath power,
And oft I curse the day and eke the hour
When first her lovesome visage met my view,
Graced with high goodlihead;
And more enamouréd
Than eye, my soul keeps up its dying strain,
Faith, ardour, hope, blaspheming still amain.
How void my misery is of all relief
Thou mayst e'en feel, so sore I call thee, sire,
With voice all full of woe;
Ay, and I tell thee that it irks me so
That death for lesser torment I desire.
Come, death, then; shear the sheaf
Of this my life of grief
And with thy stroke my madness eke assain;
Go where I may, less dire will be my bane.
No other way than death is left my spright,
Ay, and none other solace for my dole;
Then give it[262] me straightway,
Love; put an end withal to my dismay:
Ah, do it; since fate's spite
Hath robbed me of delight;
Gladden thou her, lord, with my death, love-slain,
As thou hast cheered her with another swain.
My song, though none to learn thee lend an ear,
I reck the less thereof, indeed, that none
Could sing thee even as I;
One only charge I give thee, ere I die,
That thou find Love and unto him alone
Show fully how undear
This bitter life and drear
Is to me, craving of his might he deign
Some better harbourage I may attain.
Weeping I demonstrate
How sore with reason doth my heart complain
Of love betrayed and plighted faith in vain.
[Footnote 261: _i.e._ on my heart.]
[Footnote 262: _i.e._ death.]
The words of this song clearly enough discovered the state of
Filostrato's mind and the cause thereof, the which belike the
countenance of a certain lady who was in the dance had yet plainlier
declared, had not the shades of the now fallen night hidden the
blushes that rose to her face. But, when he had made an end of his
song, many others were sung, till such time as the hour of sleep
arrived, whereupon, at the queen's commandment, each of the ladies
withdrew to her chamber.
HERE ENDETH THE FOURTH DAY
OF THE DECAMERON
_Day the Fifth_
HERE BEGINNETH THE FIFTH DAY OF THE DECAMERON WHEREIN UNDER
THE GOVERNANCE OF FIAMMETTA IS DISCOURSED OF THAT WHICH HATH
HAPPILY BETIDED LOVERS AFTER SUNDRY CRUEL AND MISFORTUNATE
ADVENTURES
The East was already all white and the rays of the rising sun had made
it light through all our hemisphere, when Fiammetta, allured by the
sweet song of the birds that blithely chanted the first hour of the
day upon the branches, arose and let call all the other ladies and the
three young men; then, with leisured pace descending into the fields,
she went a-pleasuring with her company about the ample plain upon the
dewy grasses, discoursing with them of one thing and another, until
the sun was somewhat risen, when, feeling that its rays began to grow
hot, she turned their steps to their abiding-place. There, with
excellent wines and confections, she let restore the light fatigue had
and they disported themselves in the delightsome garden until the
eating hour, which being come and everything made ready by the
discreet seneschal, they sat blithely down to meat, such being the
queen's pleasure, after they had sung sundry roundelays and a ballad
or two. Having dined orderly and with mirth, not unmindful of their
wonted usance of dancing, they danced sundry short dances to the sound
of songs and tabrets, after which the queen dismissed them all until
the hour of slumber should be past. Accordingly, some betook
themselves to sleep, whilst others addressed themselves anew to their
diversion about the fair garden; but all, according to the wonted
fashion, assembled together again, a little after none, near the fair
fountain, whereas it pleased the queen. Then she, having seated
herself in the chief room, looked towards Pamfilo and smilingly
charged him make a beginning with the fair-fortuned stories; whereto
he willingly addressed himself and spoke as follows: